Totoka River i'm on my tip toes

No worries!

There was a great imbalance between the abilities of Faeryn and Wintersbane - an inculcated, skilled warrior, and a runaway sylph with a passion set to learn: the student of the pair, no doubt. The Renoda remembered only the barest traces of her past, the stench of burning flesh poisoning her nostrils and the roar of flames at her hind, the rough scratch of bark beneath her paws. Regardless of her current lack of true skill, she was, by nature, a fighter. She would learn quick, given the opportunity.

Low rumbles met the wisps of her ears, his gruff but convivial tone urging her spirit on, ebony lips of her own tipping into a grin just as her body was pushed to the frozen earth, knocked down by the weight of the frosted sovereign; she permitted it to happen, feeling the sudden, sharp embrace of the snow at her back, the crystalline dustings of crisp white flourered onto her pelt. Light, ebullient cerulean peered up at the tundrian, gaze sparkling and heart thrumming against her chest with the adrenaline of the spar.

"And… what’s your price?" came her murmur, with a soft slither of mist seeming to spill from her jaws into the air, pinned to the ground.