Redsand Canyon they broke the wrong parts of me

here is the spar thread for when they actually spar! realized the warrior's heart was a main denning site after i wrote this post and i didn't feel like re-writing the whole thing, lol. for @Donovan Azura

praimfaya paces the warrior's heart; a fortress of redrock …but also a place for surefire slaughter. seen firsthand as she took down the pronghorn. she likes it; despite that she avoids the warrior’s heart for it was a main denning site. she likes her own space, and at times prefers sleeping beneath the stars as if she could soak up their winking fire.

she looks at the warrior’s heart and thinks it’s wasted as a denning site. it’d make a good arena: a designated place for spars and challenges. it’s large enough to allow room to move but small enough that it offers confinement. in the light of day it’s abandoned as the wolves of the saints tend to their duties, personal or otherwise. she gives it a wistful look over and with a small, slow shake of her head makes her way back towards how she came having no real reason for being here.

Donovan can be seen hopping down from where his den would be. Skittering down the slopping, rocky surface he’s padding down into the center of the den site. Sees a retreating white figure, he automatically ant help but follow.

He’s trotting towards them and immediately recognizes them as Praimfaya. He’s sure she hears him approach, for he isn’t truly trying to be sneaky. Those golden eyes of his seem to glow in the vague moonlight and so does her coat. Painted a sickly blue white light by the looming light in the sky. 

He’s smiling to her a greeting of sorts before he speaks. “I’ve been meaning to find you again, Praim. Wanted to have a spar or two. Maybe speak of promotions.” He hums like it’s be something she’s interested in.

praimfaya turns to face whomever approaches her; noting the sound of shifting sands, dry where it is sheltered from the weather. she is unsurprised to find it is donovan. she does, however; start, when he mentions he’s been looking for her. the wanheda doesn’t have to part her lips to ask; the information comes freely from the grandmaster’s lips. a spar or two. words of a ‘maybe’ promotion …though where the maybe played into it, praimfaya can’t be sure. either she was a candidate for promotion or she wasn’t — but praimfaya reminds herself that this isn’t roangeda ( as if she would ever forget ) and it was abundantly clear that the grandmaster didn’t run his ship like she ran her’s.

a promotion? her ears perk, voice lifting with unbidden curiosity and a feral eagerness; her interest genuine. ..and you should know by now that i'm always down for a spar. she adds then, addressing them out of order.

He’s tilting his head to her curious and questioning reply of a possible promotion. He’s obviously he’s piqued her interest even if just for a little bit. Still she has yet to be tested. Test her he will. He will only give the rank of Harbinger to one who is truly worthy. He’s sure the silvery woman would do well, but they have yet to see once he puts her in it.

He nods to her. “Yeah. You still have a few tests to go through before I decide whether or not to go through with it, but it is a possibility, dear.” Comes a casual reply before moving into the next subject. “If you’re always up for a spar, then let’s go. Right now.” He hypes, stepping away from her to widen his stance. 

An interested smile on his maw ever present like usual as his curled tail gives a little wave. He doesn’t care what time of the night it is, he’s always ready for a spar as well.

praimfaya doesn’t particularly like the idea of being tested without even knowing it …but she shrugs it off. it was his kingdom and if he wanted to be secretive about his process of selection than it was his deal. either she would prove herself capable …or she wouldn’t. he speaks eagerly; goading her into the spar right here and now. praimfaya rolls her shoulders again; loosening her muscles as he paces back. she does a half circle, matching him step for step across their small sparring ring —

and without warning, praimfaya lunges; shoulder poised to ram against his ribcage — her favorite move hand-me-down as it was. it could put the strongest to their knees if hit right and she didn’t particularly care how ‘dirty’ it was.

The woman doesn’t play it seems. She’s serious as all hell the moment he mentions a spar. He loves the fire in her; she’s a straight up fucking savage. 

Though he does find himself mentally crying when she’s butting her shoulder into his rip cage. True, it does make even the strongest crumble. She’s strong and he feels his ribs jostle at the rough attack. He’s grunting in pain and scrunching up his maw.

In an attempt to succeed in an attack of his own, he’s reaches back to snap at her. He catches nothing but air sadly and that leaves room for too much error. He’s sure he’ll be paying for that in the seconds to come.

his teeth make contact; a small splice of tooth against her flesh as he snaps at her shoulder. she barely feels it in the moment, only smarting to a sharp and persistent sting in the moments after drawing a small expel of air from her lips in a hiss. and she does retaliate. she drives forward with an intent to grab his hind leg. her intention, to draw pain and to, hopefully, get him off balance.

It draws pain alright. It seems this silvery woman has got the best of him this fight. She’s impressive and he knew this from the get go. The moment he met her on the coast. So, so long ago. 

He doesn’t dwell on the past too much. He can only focus on the present and the future. Can’t risk reminiscing on good or bad memories. Truly he can’t dwell on it too much for his leg is lit up with red hot pain. His balance off kilter, he wobbles enough to take advantage of his pained state. 

He reaches out while she’s snacking on his leg and his teeth connect with the softer side of her hip. An unsettling feeling of teeth gnawing at her flesh. His intentions are the same as hers.

praimfaya thinks she has him as he wobbles. he maintains his balance; impressively. with the adrenaline pulsing thru her veins she feels the sharp sting of his teeth at the soft flesh of her hip but it is dulled. she does not focus upon it, instead favoring her own attack. without remorse and with a taste of the ferocity of the draconian commander, praimfaya tightens her grip upon his leg and tugs hard. she wants donovan to yield to her and she will not give up her plight until he does.

I’ve got those garbage rolls tho haha

Donovan thought he could eventually get the upper hand, but it seems not. She’s too fucking good and he’s proud of her. Rather than being pissed off that he lost. He truly realizing this as she sweeps his leg out from underneath him and he’s crashing to the ground. The only thing he does to counter is a measly bite to her own leg when he’s down. Now this is embarrassing, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

donovan might’ve been bigger than her, though his wolfdog heritage left praimfaya to question whether he was stronger ( at least bite force wise ), but she was a master warrior trained from the moment she could walk steadily on her paws to kill. blodreina’d been grooming a commander of death and a commander of death was what praimfaya became. a draconian valkyrie wrapped up in a pretty ( debatable ) silverlit package. donovan goes down and yields. praimfaya releases her grip upon him, panting as the adrenaline wanes and allows herself the rest now that their spar is over.

she hopes she is proving to the wolves of the saints that she is a force of nature. nemisis almost killing her had been a fluke, a slip of her fury and rage — despite that surely, she’d done the same amount of damage to the feral woman. she would not repeat the mistake. the sting of being denied jus drein, jus daun smarts as she looks down at donovan. it was an opportune time to strike: when he’s down, when he thinks this is just a game. just a spar.

for a moment, praimfaya considers it.

but no. not yet. she isn’t ready and has no backup if she should fail.

it was a good spar. she grins; even though she’d walloped him. still. she’d enjoyed it nonetheless.

Donovan chuckles and gets up. “Well done.” He congratulates the well taught warrior. He’s completely oblivious to her internal battle. Perhaps he might even be beginning to trust her. Not fully though, not yet. After her tests she will be trustworthy. Until then, no one is trustworthy. 

Then his usual charming smirk morphs his face handsomely. “I’ve never been mad about being beat by a woman. You’re stronger than most men I’ve come across. Well trained, dear.” He compliments.

praimfaya doesn’t need his praise to feel validated — she knows she is strong; yet she still accepts it. morality would come for them all, one day, even the commander of death knows that. still, it feels good to show donovan that even he can be knocked off his pedestal. she feels annoyance rise in her chest as he makes a comment about how he didn’t mind being beat by a woman. it’s an incredibly sexist comment, and coupled with that grin on his face, makes her lip curl; as if it were surprising that she was strong because she was a woman. woman. warrior. what’s the difference? she asks fiercely. i’m a warrior. being a woman had nothing to do with it. the fact, as far as praimfaya was raised to see it, were not even remotely related.

i had excellent teachers. my mother among them. blodreina, praimfaya thinks, would’ve killed him already, if for the flirtations alone.

He can see that she gets defensive over the woman comment and he just about rolls his eyes. “Dear, I was brought up in a different place. Women weren’t often Warriors. Take it as a compliment.” He hums, casually with a light smile. 

He nods then. “You’re mother was a warrior too then. I’m sure she was just as skilled.” He compliments. “It was a fun spar, perhaps we can have another. I like it when my limits are tested.” He offers a promise on a later date. To accompany it, a wink is thrown in her direction as he turns and gets ready to walk off. He can’t help it.

praimfaya only feels the further sting of insult despite his attempts to assuage it. she does not take his sexist remark as a compliment; regardless of the vastly different worlds they grew up in. she almost snaps that he wasn't in the pack now, but holds her tongue ...if only because the saints was his and it could be whatever he wants it to be. did that, then, mean that he truly didn't see her value as a warrior? praimfaya would not find it to be surprising if that there was truth to that thought.

she rolls her eyes and bristles at his back as he turns it upon her and stalks off; the insult that 'woman' and 'warrior' were synonymous in his mind still bleeding venom into her veins. she wouldn't forget that. it was just another slight against her and she was keeping a running tally.