Duskfire Glacier We Light the Way

d: 18, a: 8

faust felt the tension in the air shift as astier’s strike missed, his body flowing with the motion, evading the snap with a fluid shift. the space between them closed quickly, and before astier could recover, faust’s teeth found their mark—sharp and deep. the force of it pulsed through his muscles, a sharp, quick sting, but nothing that would take him down.
he stepped back, eyes never leaving his opponent, watching the glint in astier’s eyes as the man adjusted, immediately reacting to the wound. faust’s jaw tightened, the sting in his side reminding him of the stakes in this spar. he felt the shift of the land beneath them, the cold wind that cut through their fur, but there was no hesitation.
as astier’s attack came, faust dodged, moving in a quick arc to the side. his eyes gleamed, a predatory glint. with a swift move, he retaliated, his bite aimed low, seeking to press the advantage. his fangs reached for astier’s legs, aiming not to maim, but to control—to bring the wraith to the ground.