Silver Creek takes two to tango

She was taller. Ok, no bother.
He'd fought plenty of wolves taller than him. He had more weight too. A little boulder boy.
He chuckled at her statement.
His mind instantly went to Arlette.
"My 'Lette is still beautiful, I'm sure you wouldn't be worse off."
That was...borderline flirting? Actual flirting? He didn't know.
He just wanted her to feel ok if something ever happened. He didn't want anyone to feel like Arlette had. 

But they were sparring, no no time for chit-chat.
She lunged for his shoulder, connecting to his muscle with a soft bite.
His mind drifted to the soft warrior he'd met in the winter taiga woodlands once.
Perhaps they fought the same.

He drove towards her, pushing to get his head under her ribs to flip her onto her side, or at least push her balance off.
Unorthodox, yes, but sometimes it worked well.
Trained fighters often didn't learn to expect the unexpected when traditional fang and claw were used.