Moonspear you win or you die

Their teeth clacked together as a raucous note left him and soon their bodies met—she was ever after him for every step he took away. Such was her temperment, ever assertive and sure footed regardless of the odds. He preferred to try and let her tire, searching unconsciously for some weakness in her ironclad offense. It was through this that he learned much from her and perhaps she from him, though he did not consider himself a warrior by any means. A tactician by any other name at least, but fighting did not suit him as well as other pursuits.

But Dirge would give her much to work with, to test mettle on and over. Sturdy enough to take blows and return them, he met her assault with ones of his own design, and soon he was pushing back against her relentless snips and clicks of teeth with some of his own. A tender graze past a cheek, another full body shove to the shoulder; all those endless little displays of dominance were not without jests and wordless quips to entice her on.