Lake Rodney i will not be commanded.

take your advantages dirty or not, wanheda. there is no fair play in war.

blodreina's fierce words echo to her now, a lackluster imitation of her mother's voice tragically forgotten. this wasn't war but praimfaya trains herself to seize opportunity whenever it presents itself to her: such as while his neck is exposed to her. he pushes back — shoulder to the curve of her chest again, utilizing his size and strength against her. a noise is given in protest as he makes contact, her teeth skimming his nape.

she stumbles back to collect herself, putting distance between them; eyes sizing him up, breath heavy. head hangs slightly, ears fluttering back as dramatic breath is taken; followed closely by a steel of her shoulders as her muscles pull taunt and she strikes. this time, she means to feign left and dodge right, her goal: to ram her shoulder into his ribcage if she manages to get that far.