Just Another Day

Aeronwy of the Weolcen was matched with Grimm of Waebre. She was all over him like a crazed squirrel on a tree full of ripe acorns, and about as quick as the fuzzy-tailed rodent too. Grimm felt like he was going to go insane as the pesky and plucky fighter darted around and over him landing punches, kicks, elbows, and knees to nearly every imaginable place she could reach. With a lucky grab, he got hold of an arm. He nearly let go as she set into him with her teeth and went to chewing him up, but he maintained his grip, grabbed her with his other arm, and with a mighty toss he flung her clear out of the ring.

"Lass, have ye gone rabid?" he demanded as he held his bleeding hand, partially aware of his busted lip and other scratches and bites he had gotten.

"Shoot, no," Aeronwy laughed as she sprang back to her feet. "I'll have ya know I'm the nicest of my flock too!"

Grimm stared at her in horror and took note of the faint, scraggly scars visible on her bare shoulders. "A little nip here or there is all that is sufficient in a match."

"Aye, but if this had been a true fight, I wouldn't have held back and had your throat many times over," Aeronwy replied with a dark grin. "Remember that, should the lot o' you ever step foot in Weolcen lands uninvited."

Grimm nodded slowly as he watched her from the corner of his eye. He stepped out of the ring as a healer came toward him to tend to his injuries.

"Cut it a bit close to the 'no maiming' rule there, Winny," muttered a clanmate.

"Close, but not beyond," Aeronwy replied back quietly. "I could have won, but I needed to send a message."

"What if those devils win now since there is one of them out there instead of one of us?" he asked.

"With that busted hand? Unlikely," Aeronwy chuckled. "That's the hand he clearly favored through training. His others are not as well developed. It's a sure win for his next opponent."