Ravensblood Forest Trees of Crimson

She gave a few soft huffs of laughter. I imagine so. She figured even the most skilled fighter could find something they could do better or more efficiently. 

She was actually surprised to learn his age. And when he commented on being old, she quickly shook her head. You don't look old, she assured him. Quite the opposite actually; he had the large muscular body of a warrior that she was sure drew more than just her eyes. He radiated confidence and strength, something else that drew her attention. But she didn't tell him any if that; partly because he seemed to already know it to some extent but also, something about admitting that felt like she was exposing more than she was ready for him to see just yet.

His answer seemed teasing at first, but in a way she couldn't quite figure out, like there was a hidden meaning she was missing or something. His question pulled her focus back to him, though, and she looked away, her lips scrunching pensively to one side as she thought about how to answer. When the bright orange of her eyes moved back to him, she answered: I could use some training on how to best fight someone bigger than I am. She was not a small wolf, but there were still plenty that were bigger like Donovan, and she didn't want to find herself pinned beneath an enemy, their teeth to her throat like she had in the spar; she wouldn't walk away from that.