Bearclaw Valley [SPAR] through this we go
Bearclaw Valley
Claw
honey-drawled shooter
146 Posts
Ooc — honey
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#1
Pack Activity 

Cole trotted through the Valley, eyes scanning for just the right spot—a wide, open clearing with enough room to maneuver without worry of tight spaces. His pawsteps were steady and assured as he settled on a small rise surrounded by sturdy trees. The ground here was even, the sun casting dappled light across the field, creating a perfect setting for a fair and focused spar.

Satisfied, he lifted his head and let out a short, commanding bark that echoed through the trees. His voice carried an edge of excitement, anticipation clear as he settled into place, waiting for his opponent. This was his moment to feel out the skills of his new packmate, his leader—and he was more than ready.
art © elmwick, commissioned by me.
Bearclaw Valley
Rex *
545 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#2
cole was confident and readied. ancelin shared his investment in self, still carefully carrying the comprehension that this was not only a spar. to lose was to weaken his place as rex.
and it was this rank which provoked a smirk, a slash of his tail through the air as he took cole in, his height, his strength.
"come at me!" he shouted into the wind, experiencing already the heady sensation of adrenaline as it rushed rainstorm through his very heart.
Bearclaw Valley
Claw
honey-drawled shooter
146 Posts
Ooc — honey
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#3
Cole rolled a 5/20 on the dice! ( How I usually do it is if Ancelin rolls lower, than the hit "hits" and if it's higher, than Ancelin dodges! Let me know if that works ) :D
Cole circled around Ancelin, studying him with an intense, calculating gaze. His muscles coiled as he assessed Ancelin’s stance, looking for that subtle opening.

In a swift, fluid movement, he lunged to Ancelin’s left, his approach angled to exploit a fraction of hesitation he'd spotted there. He aimed low, keeping his frame compact, and went for a controlled nip at the shoulder, a precise yet taunting challenge to test his opponent’s reflexes.

C’mon now, reckon ya can keep up? he drawled, a smirk tugging at his muzzle, eyes glinting with a mix of respect and playfulness.
art © elmwick, commissioned by me.
Bearclaw Valley
Rex *
545 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#4
works for me! im not too familiar with the dice so this gives me some practice 

i rolled a 2/20 for defense and an 8 for attack? is that right? lol

teeth clicked in his variegated fur and ancelin chuckled with surprise a bit, leaping backward. in a real fight, the wound could have been more dire.
instead of putting space between them, ancelin spearheaded himself toward cole, own grasp swinging for the side of the other's face.
his paws worked in a dance, indigo eyes bright as he tried to keep space from widening between them. if their bodies continued to clash, perhaps their strikes might be harder to compensate.
Bearclaw Valley
Claw
honey-drawled shooter
146 Posts
Ooc — honey
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#5
yes!! you did it perfect. cole rolled a 15/20 for defense, dodging. cole rolls a 15/20 for his attack (both separate, but a weird number, right lol?)

Cole's eyes narrowed, catching the gleam of Ancelin’s teeth flashing just shy of his own face as he ducked to the side, feeling the rush of air from his opponent’s missed strike. An amused huff left him, a flicker of a grin teasing at his expression. Ancelin might be quick, but Cole had his own rhythm — a steady, unhurried cadence that could carry him through any storm of strikes.

As Ancelin closed the space again, Cole pressed his advantage. Dodging sideways with an agile sidestep, he dipped low, powerful shoulders coiling as he thrust his muzzle beneath Ancelin’s jaw. With a sharp, upward motion, he aimed to knock his opponent off balance, hoping to feel the satisfying heft of Ancelin tipping back under his force.
art © elmwick, commissioned by me.
Bearclaw Valley
Rex *
545 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#6
got it! ancelin rolls 1 for defense OOF and a 6 for attack

damn dog, the dude was fast!
his tongue narrowly managed to avoid being pinched between his teeth as his head snapped back; the only saving grace was that he took three backward steps instead of two.
tucking his muzzle, he pressed the space to nothing again, fangs sharking for the man's muzzle, the bridge of the nose. another warrior might have evaluated his attack and readjusted; the taste of his own bruised mouth brought with it a fervency that had once been called up in an ancestor.