JAXIS

HANDS STEEPED IN BLOOD

The sun was sweltering, beating down on the back of the young girl, all gangly legs and awkward limbs, small horns that she had yet to grow in to. Jaxis panted, feeling her sides heave slightly, dampened and darkened with sweat, with dust clinging and wetting to cake in to mud.

The girl tossed her head out of agitation, pawing at the ground and glaring at the towering figure of Tor before her, mouth opening and closing as she tried to draw in breath. Bruises bloomed under her skin, but that didn't stop her as she dug her hooves down and pushed forward again with a yell of frustration.

She dug in to dirt and went skidding to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust at him (unsure if it would reach his face) before she lunged at him. More accurately, she lunged at his legs with an open mouth, attempting to bite. She wouldn't break skin but she wanted to grab at a tendon, wanted to bruise him just as much as he had bruised her.

After all, part of sparring and fighting was learning now wasn't it?