The Sentinels We get what we deserve

The spar, while stretching his muscles and mind, had in truth only lasted moments though it felt like longer. It would seem his bemusement had been the girl’s downfall, though as she fell over and admitted defeat, the swarthy male firmly believed she could have found a way from his hold – she could have pushed further. He had simply taken her off guard.
 
“You’re better than you give yourself credit for,” he noted quietly. He himself had far too much to improve upon – the wolves of Tartok had taught him much, but a friendly spar was far different than one that sought true blood. He had released his grip from her, sitting back and rolling his shoulders back in a leisurely stretch.