Swiftcurrent Creek aim; it's a one shot take down

His movements were more docile then before—a test to gauge how angered she was with him—had he insulted her before? His invitation was met with the Delta speeding toward him, looking to tackle him. He allowed so, gruff with a growl and yet appeased and determined to allow her the top hand in this current match—allowing the wisp of a thing to pin him and surrendering to her for the moment, eyes sharp upon her as his tail lashed the snow.

Her scent was heady—his senses were heightened and dulled all in one go. She was a flame and he was a moth—and she would consume him, he was sure.