Duskfire Glacier fight lessons

for @Jora

the morning air was crisp, the glacier quiet save for the distant howls of the wind rolling through the peaks. faust stood in the clearing, his breath curling in the cold, muscles coiled with restless energy. war loomed on the horizon, and there was no room for weakness. no room for hesitation.
his green eyes sought out jora, the huntress carved from the same unforgiving tundra that had shaped them all. he had seen her fight, knew her skill, but he wished to feel it firsthand—to test her strength against his own.
he huffed, stamping a paw against the frozen earth. jora, he called, voice edged with challenge, with invitation. fight me.

jora stood motionless, her breath steady despite the cold seeping through her fur. the wind whispered against her ears, but her sharp gaze fixed to faust. his challenge was not unexpected—war made beasts of them all, and strength was the only language that mattered.

her lips curled, not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. a slow exhale fogged the air between them as she stepped forward.

"if you wish," she murmured. Then, without another word, she lunged.

faust met her head-on, muscles tensing as he braced for impact. she was fast—faster than he expected. her lunge sent a shock through his frame, paws sliding against the frozen ground as he shifted his weight to counter.
with a sharp snarl, he twisted, using her own momentum against her, aiming to shove her off balance. no words, no warnings—just the raw clash of force and instinct. teeth bared, he pressed forward, testing her, pushing her. show me what you’ve got, jora.

jora did not resist as he moved to counter, instead allowing it to carry her, let it flow through her like the wind screaming through the peaks. where he pushed, she bent; where he sought to unbalance, she found footing anew.

her paws scraped ice as she twisted with him, absorbing the force of his shove and taking it in stride. her teeth latched to the kaan's scruff, tugging at the ruff of fur at his nape as she struck, bracing the brunt of her weight against him. if he wanted her strength, her skill, she would show him—with the oncoming war, she must.

faust snarled as her teeth found purchase, the sharp tug against his nape igniting something primal in him. fine. he’d push harder.
his weight shifted, paws digging deep into the ice as he used his bulk to twist sharply, aiming to shake her grip and slam his shoulder into her side. force over finesse, brute strength meeting calculated movement. if jora wanted to prove herself, he would give her every reason to.
no half-measures. not in war. not here.

jora barely had time to brace before the impact crashed into her side, a shock of force that sent pain rippling through her ribs. he was strong—she had known this, expected this—but strength alone was not enough to break her. 

she did not yield. she twisted with the blow rather than against it to limit her strain, but flesh meets flesh as he shoves into her. paws scraping across the ice, but her balance held, her body coiling like a drawn bow. she aims for his face next, jaws snapping near his snout as they grappled for the advantage.

faust welcomed the sting of her teeth snapping close, the hot breath curling against his muzzle. good.
his own fangs flashed in answer, a sharp feint before he wrenched his weight forward, aiming to drive her backward, to force her onto unstable footing. the ice was treacherous beneath them, and he would use it.
he pressed in, teeth grazing the thick fur of her cheek, a warning, a challenge. you fight well, he rumbled, breathless but steady. then, without hesitation, he twisted low, attempting to unbalance her with a hard sweep of his shoulder.

jora felt the ice shift beneath her paws, the treacherous slickness threatening to betray her.

the instant her paws left the ground, she snapped for him—her teeth grazing the thick ruff of his neck as she sought any hold she could claim.

her back hit the frozen ground with a solid thud, forcing a breath from her chest. ”I should hope so,” she pants, paws planting themselves firmly on his chest.

faust rumbled, a sharp exhale clouding the cold air between them. her weight pressed into him, steady, unyielding. good. he wanted that fight, that fire.
then get up.
without warning, he shoved back, aiming to topple her once more—testing her, pushing her, demanding she meet him with all she had. war would not grant them steady footing. neither would he.

fade in your next so we can start a continued one?

jora's breath hissed between her teeth as she felt him shift, the raw power behind his shove threatening to send her sprawling again. she did not falter the second time.

she twisted sharply, bracing against the ice, letting his force slide past her rather than crush her beneath it. in a breath, she was up.

"then stop trying to put me down."

the words were barely free of her lips before she struck once more, driving forward with the full weight of her body. if he wanted a fight, she would give him one.