Sun Mote Copse I've been swimming from the Wallace

By the time it was over, if Fennec had vision, it likely would have tunneled.  She finally stopped struggling, going limp against the ground, as it felt like her lungs might burst without more air.  How could they burst from being empty, she thought dimly, but fortunately Niamh chose that moment to let go, and breath whooshed painfully back through her with a low choking noise.

Fennec crouched there and simply breathed for a few moments, feeling her spiked pulse calm as she remembered where she was and what was happening... and that she'd lost.  The last part never failed to frustrate her, no matter how expected it was, no matter how many times it happened.  She actively disliked sparring for one reason and one alone; she hated that feeling of helplessness that always came from being pinned down.  And no matter how hard she'd fought it this time, the outcome had left a poor taste in her mouth.

Not half as big a one as you, she shot back.  But there was none of the venom there had been last time in her voice... just a touch of disappointment.  For as much as she prided herself in the title, she'd known all along that Niamh deserved it more.

It was why her opinion meant so much.

Fennec stood a little unsteadily and took stock.  Her shoulder had a pretty good bite and her neck was a stinging mess, but it likely felt worse than what it was.  Niamh hadn't gone easy on her, but she had minimized the damage pretty well.  If she'd lost control the way Fennec had, this fight would have turned out a very different way.  For the record - all I want from you is to prove you wrong.  Just in case Niamh had some idea in her head that she needed any hurt feelings soothed.  She didn't.  The words were a peace offering back, though.  The fight had given her an excuse to acknowledge Niamh's place without feeling like it was because she was a child, or not worthy of carrying weight of her own.