Phoenix Maplewood Leaving your keys in my car

Third Roll: 9

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He felt teeth on his leg, the force she struck with put him off kilter again, making him lose his grasp and pull away. He swung his body around again, an arctic wind gathering itself to throw its whole body into the attack. 
This one was different from his first attack; that was lithe, coy. This was a swing of a battering ram. 

He moved with a calculated lunge, teeth plummeting to lock onto her back end, seeking to catch her loin or flank. He knew the move held risks, to put his power into one direction. If she dodged he'd have to reel back on her and attack again -- she had the speed for it. Yet, if he succeeded, she'd have to twist herself around. Then, he could push her down. But that wouldn't make much for sparring now, would it?

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