Ouroboros Spine in which death has claimed as mine

there is a soft pang of doubt as he watches her lower herself into a stance that invited him to spar, even before she spoke the words. this doubt is borne from the fact that kivaluk, the dutiful son, wanted to be the best and expected nothing less than perfection from himself ...and knew he was not as experienced with sparring as he was hunting.

he knows that failing was a lesson learned, that he wouldn't get better if he didn't practice, but feels the lingering kiss of embarrassment all the same.

regardless, he steels his shoulders, gaze looking for any potential opening: applying his already learned skills as hunter. it was similar, he tells himself.

his muscles tense, body taunt as he lunges: his aim to land a nip at her left front leg.