[Training] What You Have Given Me (Miharu)

[Siiri]

78th of Spring, 510 AV - Training Grounds - Late Afternoon

They spent the rest of the day in the training grounds, Siiri meticulously running a whetstone down Slayer’s blade while Miharu watched the army’s new recruits get grilled by their trainors on different combat scenarios. The Myrian explained to the Kelvic that her people learned weapon use at a very young age and their time in the army served to sharpen those skills and allow them to use them in concert with others. Various fighting techniques were showcased by those in practice as well, from armed combat using weapons of varying shapes and sizes, to the specialized unarmed combat styles practiced by the different tribes.

One of the instructors, Ackaris, approached Siiri and asked her to participate in a mock battle with one of his charges. He was one of her old trainors and apparently, one of the neophytes, a young woman by the name of Avila, refused to graduate from the spear and take on the more sophisticated weapons Myrians used. Such a thing was unheard of. Not only did it limit her skill set but it made her predictable and thus easy to counter by anyone with a brain. Ackaris wanted the veteran warrior to show the girl the weaknesses of her weapon of choice. Siiri gladly obliged, patting Miharu on the thigh as she stood up. It was obvious that the request was not something new to her, that she had taught and instructed others before.

She began by outlining her... opinion... about the limitations of the basic Myrian weapon. “This,” Siiri began as she approached the girl who was made to stand apart from the others., “is a novice's weapon.” Her voice was loud, commanding everyone's attention, as she pointed at the girl's spear with her greatsword. “Your main offensive point, the one meant to wound and kill, is limited here, the spearhead. The rest of it is just there so that this small portion can do what it's meant to do. The shaft has no edge – you can't execute a backhand with it or inflict cuts. The spearhead can't as well for that matter, not without much effort on your part. It is only good for stabbing, piercing. What if you missed? Bring it too near me and I will grab it and break it. The spear is an excellent tool for hunting, yes, in the slaying of mindless beasts who know nothing of the weapons we employ to bring about their demise. But we are not limited to fighting such creatures! The most dangerous ones we fight are those who think. The humans. The Dhani. Those seek to encroach upon our lands without permission from the Goddess-Queen. What can a simple weapon such as this do against those?”

Her question was directed to the neophytes, all of them, but none reacted. Not to her question, not to her speech. There was something wrong, she sensed, but she ignored it. Instead she turned to Avila, a challenge in her eyes.

“Think of me as one of those, then. Think of me as one who will fight you for your land. Think of me as one who will take from the People. Show me what your spear can do and stop me!”

Siiri could see that the girl was pumped, ready to face her challenge and, perhaps, make her swallow her boastful words. Good, she thought. If she could, then I've not wasted my breath. The others cleared a space for them to spar. They drew off, walking away from each other for a certain distance before turning around and facing each other. Ackaris drew near her, amusement in his eyes.

“She's the best in this batch, Siiri,” he whispered, containing his chuckles. “No one's beaten her yet when she uses that silly pig sticker of hers. Good luck! Looks like you'll need it.”

No wonder no one stirred at her monologue. She might just be about to get her words shoved back down her throat. “Great. Now I remember why I hated you back in training,” grumbled Siiri as she held Slayer up in a defensive posture.

“Ha! You wouldn't be where you are without me, girl,” Ackaris returned, cackling at last. He raised his voice, so that his students could hear. “First blood wins.”

The neophytes watched intently as Siiri and one of their numbers circled each other, gauging their opponents. Unlike the rest of Mizahar, sparring matches between two Myrians were full contact affairs. Every blow had weight behind it, every swing or stab was executed with bad intentions. Each fighter's goal was, at the very least, to hurt the other without getting hurt himself. It was how they sharpened their killer instinct, by not hesitating to put their opponent down – whoever that opponent may be. Things like mercy or code of honor had no place in such fights, there was only victory or, if one lacked the necessary skills to win, defeat.

Siiri, as was her usual tactic, remained passive, waiting for her opponent to make the first move. The first few blows were usually a feeling out process for her. She judged the skill and strength of her opponent from it. Thus she circled Avila, keeping her blade loose at center, ready to react to the attacks that would surely come shortly.

True enough, the girl, impatient, closed it, spear leading. She fired off a series of stabs that stunned Siiri in their ferocity, nearly ending the fight right there and then. The veteran warrior barely dodged the incoming strikes. For several moments she was forced to back up, an unfamiliar movement for her, as she blocked or ducked from the blows. Avila was precise and economic in her movements, pulling back and aiming for an exposed part of Siiri's body whenever she shifted to parry the spear. It took bit of her skill just to keep from being grazed by the weapon's edge.

A crowd had formed around them, soldiers and trainors alike watching them with Ackaris and his students. Most began to jeer at Siiri for her lack of offense in the fight. She wondered briefly if Miharu was doing the same. But then she ignored everyone else around her, focusing instead on her and her opponent's movements. Avila, meanwhile, had grown confident, becoming more flamboyant in her attacks. Siiri would parry swats from the spear's shaft, only for the girl to pull back and do a spinning stab, a jabbing movement where she would roll the butt end of the shaft so that it would snake past the woman's defenses, forcing her to draw back and surrender any ground she had gained on the girl.

For the whole time, Siiri had avoided breaking the girl's spear with her blade, though Avila should still be credited for keeping the shaft out of her reach. She was getting careless now however, giving Siiri more opportunities to grab hold on to the weapon or smash it apart with Slayer. The veteran warrior felt that it was time to give the girl a lesson in humility. She directed their movements so that they were reenacting the last engagement, leaving a small opening for Avila to hit her with the spinning stab once more. It was not so blatantly obvious as to make that girl think it was a feint, just enough to give her a clear shot.

She took it.

As the spear twirled towards her once more, Siiri stabbed straight at it. The shaft seemed to twist around her blade, like a serpent about to wrap its coils on a limb. Slayer's five foot long blade was not enough to even get near Avila, who was confident her weapon's reach would keep her safe from Siiri's, but it wasn't Siiri's intention to attack her at all. The woman allowed the spear to pass her weapon's length, its head almost nicking her hand in its gyrations, and then she spun Slayer's hilt, tangling the spinning spear against the greatsword's crosspiece. Even before the wooden shaft stopped its spin, Siiri grabbed on to it, wrapping her fingers around it and her own weapon's ricasso, effectively trapping the shaft against her blade She gave both a powerful yank and Avila, caught unprepared, stumbled towards her. The girl found the woman's dagger aimed straight at her and almost impaled herself upon it. She scrambled back just in time but too late to prevent herself from getting pricked at the base of her neck. A single drop of blood slipped down from the wound.

“Lesson number one: do not think you've won until you actually have,” Siiri said to her with a wink. Sheathing her dagger, the veteran warrior spun the spear in her hands, uprighting it, before offering it back to Avila. “You are very good with it, but you might want to try adding other weapons in your arsenal. The surprise factor along when you suddenly use them will give you an edge in your fights.” She held out her hand, offering the warrior's clasp to the girl. Avila accepted both weapon and armclasp humbly, muttering the traditional thanks for a lesson well received. She clutched at her throat as she rejoined her fellows.

“Bah! You were always a show off,” Ackaris rumbled good-naturedly.

“And you complain too much!” Siiri shot back, laughing. She waved at the man as he led his charges back to their practice area. “And what of you? Wouldn't you want to add another weapon in your arsenal?” She asked Miharu once she's rejoined her. “You've taught me how to skin, something I'm glad to learn from you. How about I teach you how to fight using that human body of yours? There might come a time when you cannot shift to your wolf form.”

Always wanting to be prepared for every eventuality, Siiri was already calculating the possibilities her bondmate might find herself in. In the dangerous place they lived in, she wanted the girl ready for anything.

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu watched the deadly battle unfold, and she sensed Siiri's frustration as if it were her own. But there was no jeering, no judgment in the slow defensive game that she played. If no one else there understood it, the wolf-girl did. It was how she hunted, patient, waiting for an opening. The quick, vicious kill that the Myrians preferred was not her way. No, she was built to run down her prey, waiting, always waiting while they tired themselves and grew desperate, and she saw that in the hard lines of her bondmate, in the way she moved and twisted. She didn't understand the words that were flung at her, but she understood their tone, and she bristled as she slinked up to join the circle, her teeth baring a little as the black ink of her face crinkled from her snarl.

She felt her back and thighs grow tense, as if she herself were waiting to spring, some of Siiri's battle-ready mind bleeding over into hers. She, too, saw the instant when the girl made her mistake, and she couldn't stop herself from crouching down a little even as her bondmate struck, as if ready to fling herself into the middle of it as well. But those were just the reactions of her body, not of her mind, and so she stayed where she was as the girl was defeated, and let out a satisfied growl when it was clear that Siiri had won.

When Siiri rejoined her, she couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips, despite the soreness it caused her. "Well done," she murmured, nuzzling the pale side of her face against Siiri's shoulder for just a moment before she straightened and listened to her proposition. Brows drew together, and she blew a sharp breath out of her nose. "Ah. I have never been good with weapons," she said with a shake of her head. "Nor anything, really, that required much dexterity of the hands. Sewing a wound is nearly the only thing I can get my fingers to do," she chuckled. But she could sense how important this was to her bondmate, and so she added, "But my father taught me a little how to fight without weapons in my human form. Or at least how to bash someone's face in with my elbow and how to throw a punch without breaking my hand," she snorted. "Actually, a lot of it was about picking up the nearest thing i could reach and smashing it over their heads. Useful in cities, but not very apt in the jungle. Maybe... maybe you could teach me more of that?" she asked carefully, glancing up to catch Siiri's gaze. She would try to learn some weapon if pressed, if for nothing else than to please her bondmate, but she was more worried about failing miserably at it and have the warrior think her weak or inept.

[Siiri]

“Ah, but Eena would be proud of that performance,” Siiri laughed, referring to her match with Avila. “She says I fight like a bull and oftentimes she tells me to use my head. The one time I do and she's not here to see it!”

She described the woman she spoke of to Miharu: short and stocky, one who would be overlooked in a crowd for her nondescript appearance, she was harsh at times but an able and fair leader. She was Siiri's direct report, “the true alpha in our fang” as she described her to the wolf Kelvic. The woman was due to arrive the next day or the day after that, and Siiri promised her bondmate that she would be well accepted by this Eena.

As she listened to Miharu detailing the amount of fighting ability she had in her human form, Siiri took the girl's hands in hers, her thumbs kneading the girl's knuckles. She would be taught no weapons, she reassured her, not if she did not want to learn of such.

“I am coming to understand you more and more, Miharu,” she admitted, speaking as if to the girl's hands as her emerald eyes have not left them. “The more time I spend feeling this bond between us, the more I know of you.” Her words to the girl were tender, however, Siiri still thought like a Myrian. Having just come off a fight, even if it was a friendly one, her words would inevitably shift to what she knew best, and that was practicality, as a combatant, in the battlefield. It was simply who she was. “So I know the kind of weapons that I favor would not suit you. I have given it a bit of thought and I think ranged weapons would fit more for you and your kind. You could strike from a distance, then shift to flee or continue the attack in your natural form. But I disdain such weapons; I think they are a -” She almost said “a coward's choice” but realized her own sister was an archer of some repute and even a number of her fangmates favor the use of blow darts. She did not want to give offense to any other who might be around to overhear as well – especially if it was an officer.

“...for the cautious,” Siiri finished lamely. “The throwing dagger is about the only thing I could stand to use. So, no weapons for today's lesson.”

She led Miharu to the nearest practice dummies, sacks tied together and filled with sand to approximate a man's form. They were held up by wooden poles whose bases were buried deep into the ground to provide stability. Junior ranked soldiers cleared one area to give them room as Siiri pointed out to the Kelvic the vulnerable parts of the body. As a predator, they were things the wolf-girl would know, but the Myrian felt she had to reiterate them.

“Head, temple, eyes, nose, neck. Weaknesses all, and you could kill a someone with a well placed shot at any of these parts. Stun them or cause them immense pain at the very least. Naturally, these parts would be guarded, by instinct if nothing else.” She pointed at the dummy's stomach. “The gut, not as guarded. A punch here would wind anyone, and here, pain.” She mimed hitting the dummy at the solar plexus and then at the kidneys.

By now a small group had gathered about them, mostly male soldiers on their water break or off-duty loiterers. They knew of Siiri of course, and thus only gave her a passing glance, having watched her sweat it out in the training grounds enough times. But they were intrigued by her new companion, whose alabaster skin they associated to foreigners who come from up north – and who usually ended up as meals on their plates. The must have realized eventually that Miharu was Kelvic (that or a slave but there were no shackles upon her and she was being taught unarmed combat by a Myrian soldier of all things), but they were enchanted by the girl's exotic nature. The newly applied tattoo on her face only enhanced her attractiveness for them.

Siiri gave a derisive snort then continued with her lesson. “These are the more common areas where, if you hit them,your enemy will experience some degree of pain. If it's a man, the gods have been kind enough make them with a body part for us to exploit. A solid blow here -” Siiri grabbed the dummy by the shoulders and delivered such a vicious knee to its groin area that several of the onlookers actually winced in perceived pain, “- and they'll be left mewling like a new born cat.” She turned to glare at the crowd. Several dispersed, ducking under her gaze and muttering about important things they suddenly remembered having to attend to. The stubborn ones still stayed however; she just rolled her eyes at them.

“Ignore them,” Siiri mouthed at Miharu, knowing of the girl's discomfort in crowds. “Do you have questions so far?”

[Miharu Mindi]

When Siiri took her hands and spoke so softly to her, Miharu's heart raced with pleasure and almost, almost, did she dip her head to nuzzle her face against her partner's. But then Siiri got back to business, and she quickly straightened up and nodded, smiling a little.

She followed the other woman to the practice dummies, unconcerned with the people who watched them. Her hatred of crowds was much diminished when she was with Siiri, could feel her bondmate's presence in the back of her mind. She didn't even notice them until Siiri growled at them, and then she just stared at them with no shyness, no hint of backing down. Let them stare - and let them dare lay a hand on her. It would not be only her bondmate's fury they would face.

“Head, temple, eyes, nose, neck," she repeated back, turning to the dummy. She bent at the knees just a little, and then an animalistic snarl poured out from between her lips as she sprang at the sandbag-man. A punch to the neck, an elbow to the nose, pointed fingers jammed into the eyes, another back-swing of her elbow catching it at the temple. "Gut and kidney," she repeated, lashing out with another two vicious punches, her fists balled up as she'd been taught. She attacked the dummy without holding back, not really understanding the difference between practice and battle - there was fighting, and there was not, and in this, too, she was well placed among the Myrians for all that she stood out among them. And then, just as Siiri had, she grabbed the dummy by the shoulders and rammed her knee into it's groin as hard as she could; which was very hard indeed, considering how much more powerful her legs were than her arms.

After that blow, she stood before Siiri, a feral smile still pulling her lips back from her teeth and golden eyes flashing with excitement. "Like that?" she asked, breath coming a little faster not because she was tired but simply because she was worked up, and she tended to pant when she was.

[Siiri]

“That's... quite good,” Siiri said haltingly, surprised at the display. The girl had some skill in her. “I see I don't have to teach you about striking. We just need to sharpen your form a little bit. Here.” She demonstrated by standing in the traditional stance: left foot forward, right leg supporting most of the body's weight, both knees slightly bent, and fists held up to neck level ready to parry blows to the head or the body. Her body loose and light, she showed Miharu how to shift stances by switching the positions of the feet. “Always keep most of your weight on the back leg so you can maintain your center of balance. It lets you dodge faster and you generate more power as you transfer that weight in your blows. Now your attacks, you let them come from the ground up. Have the force travel from your feet to your legs, up your torso, into your arms, then fist.” Siiri executed a punch in slow motion, pointing at each body part she mentioned. She gave special focus on the glutes, explaining that it was where most of an attacks energy comes from. “So when you punch, you put your butt into it.” She patted her own hip for emphasis. “If you don't, you only use back muscles. Not much as much force and you get tired faster.

“I like how you use your elbows. Keep doing that, especially when your enemy is too near and punches become ineffective. A blow to the nose is good – makes the eyes water. Try aiming at the eys to break the bone around it too, or just below the eyebrow. The skin is very thin there; even if you just graze it with your elbow, a cut might open and blood gets into enemy's eyes, yes?Elbowing the chin stuns the enemy as well.” The Myrian emphasized each point by demonstrating the technique on the dummy, such that its head was a shapeless mass once she was done.

“The knee is good, but push your hips forward upon impact. Use your legs more as well, they are stronger than the arms. Kick like you're chopping down a tree. Target the hip or kidney.” She put words into action, smashing her shins against the practice dummy, a resounding crash accompanying each hit of her leg on the leather. She spent several minutes showing Miharu how to throw a kick at different parts of the body and then moved on to simple combinations the girl could practice on her own, incorporating the kick in what the girl already knew how to do so that each attack flowed seamlessly from one to the next. After they've worked out a light sweat, Siiri paused to continue her lesson.

“Sometimes, you will run across someone who will be hardly hurt by these hits. Like... like...” She looked around, scanning the training grounds for someone specific. Her eyes settled on the wrestling mats where a giant of a man was plowing his way through all challengers with ease. He was one of Kreesha's men who had accompanied them back to Taloba. “Like that. Goro.”

The man was tall, taller than Siiri and almost as tall as the largest females in the city, and he was broad and powerfully built like a bull. His arms were thick as the trunk of young trees and he almost looked as if he had no neck, so large were his shoulder muscles. He went through the opposition with ease, sometimes lifting opponents up with one hand to slam them to the ground.

“You can punch and kick him all day and he'd offer the rest of his body for you to hit so he can have a 'massage' as he calls it. Few can best him at his game. His wrestling is one of the best and he hits with the force of a landslide. Dangerous man.” Siiri shook her head as she spoke of Goro, as if loathe to utter praises of him. Then she turned to Miharu, a lopsided grin splayed on her lips. “Fortunately, there is a way to beat him and his kind.” She took the girl's hands once more, holding them in her familiar way, her thumbs on the Miharu's knuckles. “As a wolf, you possess Nature's gifts of strength and speed. You hunt very well and can take down prey much bigger than you. But as a human, you have to operate with the form's... limitations. But that does not mean you have to stop fighting like a predator. You just have to go about it differently.”

Siiri touched Miharu by the neck, feeling her pulse. “Blood flows here, pumping it to the brain. If you cut that off, great fighter or no, your opponent will topple.” She pointed at the girl's elbows and knees. “Useful weapons, those, but they are also a vulnerability. If you are willing to learn, I will teach you the art of fighting of my tribe. It...might be different from what you are used to.”

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu followed Siiri as well as she could, mimicking the blows she taught her, practicing them again and again, but it was hard for her to concentrate, unused as she was to learning of any kind. Oh, she could learn, but it simply took much more focus and attention than she was wont to exhibit in any situation. That she was doing so now was proof of how much she wanted to learn what her bondmate taught her, but it was exhausting, and by the end of it her stupid human skin was covered in sweat. Not to mention the dried blood from that morning's hunt, which was chafing under the knot of her sarong and itching fiercely. And the still-healing bruises, and the raw red skin remaining from her blisters earned on the ride to Taloba that were hidden beneath her skirt.

Her own scent filled her nose, heat billowing off her in what she felt should have been visible waves, and she had to try very hard to force her movements to stay even and smooth - but she did, stubbornly refusing to show any weakness, to give in to her body's limitations. She needed to learn this, and so she would learn it.

When Siiri turned them towards the wrestling mats, she locked her knees and panted as quietly as she could, wiping at her face with the back of one hand. She wanted nothing more than to shift and flop down on the ground, to stretch out and let the cool earth soak up some of her body heat, loll out her tongue and just pant, which was ever so much more satisfying in her wolf's form than it was in human form.

But her partner's sudden grin chased away the worst of her complaints, and when Siiri took her hands again she forgot all the reasons she hated her human form. She remembered instead that in this form she had fingers to twine with her bondmates, and soft skin to rub against her cheek, and it wasn't so bad anymore.

"To learn your combat?" she said, her voice smaller than usual but her smile was just as warm. A shiver touched her as Siiri brushed a hand against her throat, but golden eyes didn't waver away from hers. "Yes, I would like to learn. And thank you," she added, remembering what few manners she had, "for teaching me. I would learn, if you have the time - or from someone else if you'd rather," she said quickly, not wanting to be a burden.

[Siiri]

“I would rather you learned from me, really,” Siiri said, a suggestive smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She held Miharu by the arms, steadying the girl as she fought to catch her breath. She sat the girl down on the ground, patting her on the shoulder as she sprang back up. “You should rest a bit, looks like you need it. I'll get some water. For us.” Siiri wasn't really thirsty, not yet, but she felt she had to add the last part so as not to make her bondmate feel weak or inadequate. She understood that Miharu was acclimating to her environment and the Myrian way of life. It would take time for the girl to fully adjust and keep up with the people's endurance and love for the art of war and fighting.

Siiri returned with her own waterskin, filled with the cool water of the deep well nearby. She found Miharu where she left her, still sitting in front the practice dummy. The girl wasn't alone anymore however. A dark figure of a woman had parted from the crowd and drew near the Kelvic in Siiri's absence. She was heavily tattooed and covered in warpaint. At the warrior's approach, the figure turned, facing her.

“Kala,” Siiri greeted, offering a nod. She handed the waterskin to the still sitting Miharu but kept her eyes on the other woman. Kala was short and stocky; if not for the tattoos and warpaint she would be unimposing in a crowd of Myrians. Still, Siiri remembered the one time she fought with this woman from the Creeping Death tribe. It was a humbling experience to say the least.

“It looks to me as if you are tutoring this deyhan in weaponless fighting,” the shorter woman began, speaking in the common tongue for the benefit of the listening Miharu. Her eyes drifted to the inflamed skin of Siiri's chest, noting the newly inked tattoo of the spirit wolf between her bosom. “Kelvic? A bondmate then! I congratulate you, Siiri of the Snapping Jaws.” To Miharu she bowed gracefully. “Greetings to you, young one.” The movement was neither mocking nor condescending, the same as the tone of her voice. Her dark gaze returned to Siiri. “Perhaps the Sister-Wolf would learn better if you demonstrated your art first? Yours is difficult to teach by instructions alone. She can mimic the moves easier after seeing them executed. What do you say? A grappling match like before? No strikes this time. I will fight you using your own style.”

Siiri could only nod dumbly. It was the first time she heard the other woman speak and she was actually surprised. Kala's voice was soft and small, like a shy young girl's, though her diction and pronunciation were stiff and awkward, as if she was not used to speaking. Siiri did not expect her to be courteous, let alone nice. As she followed off to a space large enough for them to have their match, she glanced back at her bondmate and gave a shrug. She was playing it by ear at the moment. Hopefully, Miharu would be able to pick up something from their display.

“First one to make the other tap wins?” Siiri asked.

Kala merely nodded. Someone offered to signal the start of the match. As soon as it did, the woman's entire demeanor changed. Gone were the warmth from her eyes – there was no emotion behind them now in fact. Practice or not, Myrians treat every fight as the real thing and this keeps their killer instinct sharp and their reflexes hones to a keen edge. There was such thing as pulling punches for them. They 'see' their opponent as the enemy until the fight ends. Thus Siiri was surprised to detect no anger or hate or malice from Kala. There was just an emotional void from the other woman. And this left Siiri unbalanced.

As she had promised, Kala did not use strikes at all as she closed in, but this did not stop her from getting Siiri down to the ground. A simple grab and a hip toss had the taller woman on the ground with Kala landing on top of her, past the guard of her legs. In a normal fight, the combatant on top would be landing heavy blows on the unprotected head of the one on the bottom. But since strikes were barred from the match, Kala grabbed one of Siiri's arms by the wrist instead, and then looped her other arm up and under the limb to grab hold of the wrist of her hand that was holding on to Siiri's.

It was a shoulder lock, designed to twist the back and up in a way it was not made to move. It would not kill an individual but the excruciating pain it would cause as the limb was torqued could paralyze anyone and eventually the shoulder could get dislocated or the arm broken.

Siiri immediately grabbed hold of the hand of her trapped arm, preventing it from being twisted. Simultaneously, she bucked and turned towards that limb, dislodging Kala from her mounted position as she inched her hips towards the space she created with her movement. The shorter woman partially released the hold as she transitioned to a new technique, trapping Siiri's arm by her chest and struggling to get up and around the downed woman to lock the armbar into place with her legs. Siiri rolled with her however and somehow she was able to pull out her arm from the hold. That left Kala in a bad position, with her legs within easy reach of her opponent. Like a crocodile, the namesake of her tribe, Siiri went for one of the exposed limbs, coiling her bicep under Kala's heel as she trapped the instep against her chest. The hold in place, she wrapped and locked her legs around the other's thigh, preventing her from escaping. Then she began to turn her shoulders against Kala's ankle, twisting it in a direction it was not meant to go.

An emotion finally cracked Kala's expressionless visage: she screamed in pain as more pressure was applied to her ankle. Siiri had not even fully turned her shoulder, not wanting to cause permanent damage on the limb, but the pain was still intense. Kala had tapped her on the thigh several times to signal her submission before Siiri finally let go of the hold. The match was over mere seconds before it began. Siiri helped the shorter woman up, who was wincing now and favoring her twisted ankle.

“Excellently executed,” Kala congratulated. “You completed the move now, unlike before.”

“Only because you trapped yourself by your own rules, my friend,” Siiri grinned. “There was no kick to knock me out this time.”

Together the two of them made their way towards Miharu, Kala hobbling slightly as Siiri aided her along. The woman from the Creeping Death tribe bowed towards the Kelvic once more, a slight smile on her lips. “Heed her words,” she said. “She is the best among her tribe.” With a parting wave, the woman melted back into the crowd of training warriors.

Siiri gazed at her bondmate, a sheepish grin on her lips. “You probably didn't pick up anything from that short exchange,” she apologized. “Kala is a better fighter than I, and beating her makes me feel good, but I thought it foolish of her to fight me on my own terms.” She paused, considering, then muttered, “Or maybe she just wanted me to look good.” Now that she's thought about it, the more she felt that her notion was right. Kala was a great wrestler and grappler, but Siiri was still superior in the submission game. Kala had put herself at a disadvantage by invoking the no strikes rule. The fight emphasized the style Siiri wanted to teach Miharu but it also left the shorter warrior vulnerable to defeat. Siiri almost felt insulted by the giveaway match but then she thought it might not be about her at all. As her emerald orbs met Miharu's amber ones, she realized that perhaps it was for this girl before her. She smiled at her bondmate as she appreciated Kala's unspoken gesture.

“At any rate, come, I will teach you more basic moves, something easier to absorb. We can just sit here on the ground as I show you. That match tired me out more than I realized...”

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu tried to follow exactly what was going on - there was another woman, who was actually quite friendly and smiled and bowed to her, so she bowed and gave greetings in return. But it was Siiri's attention the woman most wanted, and the Kelvic was more than happy to sit upon the ground and rest herself.

Then there was wrestling, so fast and done by two people who knew so this style so well that she just blinked and it was over, and for a moment she thought maybe she'd dozed off and hadn't realized it. But no, when Siiri returned she confirmed that Miharu wasn't supposed to get anything out of such a fast encounter, and she immediately felt better. She was a little confused as Siiri wavered from pleasure to suspicion and back to something more positive, a low whine caught behind her teeth, but there wasn't anything to be done about that.

Exhausted as she was, she brightened when Siiri smiled at her, blossoming beneath the warmth of it, and forced herself to sit up straighter. "I caught a little of it," she said, eyes glued to her bondmate's as her smile twisted, "but I don't think I understood it. Or that I could..." She waved a hand, trying to think of a way to explain it, but her human tongue failed her, and she finally just sighed. "I will try," she laughed, nodding as she scooted closer to Siiri, patting the ground beside her. "It is hard, sometimes, to thing of my arms as arms instead of legs and claws. But it gets easier now that I'm with you. I don't mind my skin so much," she said with another breathy laugh. "Now, I saw that you grabbed her foot at the end? What did you do to it to make her yell like that?"

[Siiri]

Siiri sat down without bothering to dust the spot where she planted herself. She was sweating and grime-coated enough from the sparring and the hunt earlier that day that she didn’t care if her trousers got a little more dirt on it than it already had. The Myrian was proud of her bondmate at that moment, for having caught the one attack she pulled from the very short match with Kala. It was less obvious than the other warrior’s two attempts at breaking her arm but still Miharu understood that it was what caused enough pain to Kala for her to cry out and end the match. That was a start at least.

“I applied enough pressure on her leg to cause her pain. A lot of pain. The move twisted her ankle the wrong way and also her knee. If I continued to turn it, her ankle would break and her knee would pop out eventually,” Siiri explained. “Very painful. The legs, especially the feet, they have a lot of nerve endings. Very sensitive.

“The first precept of the Snapping Jaws art of fighting is to understand how your opponent’s body works so you can apply enough pain to subdue him – a broken arm will leave you paralyzed or limit your movement enough to be ineffective in battle, unless you are versed in pain suppression – or to take him out entirely, by strikes or holds. The second is understanding the functions of your own body to bring about the goal of the first.”

Siiri recited her discipline as if reading from a manual, recalling all the lessons her trainors taught her when she was still green in the art herself. She was struggling to illustrate the underlying concept of her fighting style in terms Miharu could easily grasp so that the girl would absorb it faster once she begun demonstrating the attacks.

“It is something like…like…” Finally, an idea struck her. “Like when you are taking out your prey!” Siiri began to talk more excitedly, her actions more animated as she used hand gestures to emphasize her words. “When you dispatched that rodent this morning, you bit it on the neck. Why not anywhere else? And rather than waiting it for it to bleed to death, you kept your hold – your Jaws – on it until you choked it out. Why? As a predator, it is instinctual for you. You use the best weapons you have in your wolf form. That shouldn't change when you shift to your human form. It may be soft and weak in appearance but you still have weapons. Elbows and fists, knees and feet you already know how to use. I will give you other weapons to use.”

The Myrian paused and took a deep breath, not having taken any during her dialog. “You will use your Jaws,” she said, extending an arm and pointing at her forearm and bicep to show Miharu what she meant. "Your arms can act the same way as your jaw in your wolf form. It doesn't have teeth, yes, but it can choke as well. Much better than just using your hands in fact. Let me show you.”

Siiri shifted her position, moving behind Miharu such that if the girl leaned back just a bit she would be pressing against her chest. The warrior nested her elbows lightly on Miharu's shoulders, extended her hands forward so that the girl could see them. But then she kept to that position, not making a move as if hesitant to proceed. Leaning close, her lips mere inches away from her bondmate's ear, she whispered, “This is your first time. You might feel vulnerable and exposed with what I'm about to do.

“Do you trust me?” Siiri asked.

[Miharu Mindi]

When Siiri first started in on her recitations, the tone of her voice so low and dull, Miharu almost immediately started zoning out - she managed to force herself to keep her eyes on Siiri as she spoke, but almost no words got through. She just watched her bondmate's lips move, and thought about how beautiful and strong her face was, and did she get that scar from the crocodile or somewhere else?

It wasn't until Siiri finally got excited and laughed that her attention snapped back to where it should be, and the woman's animated explanation actually got through her exhaustion-fogged brain. Her assumptions made her giggle, though, and when Siiri finally stopped for breath it broke into a full-fledged laugh. "Yes, but those were not instincts that guided me - you wished that I hunt it like a human, not like a wolf. Were I to hunt as I usually do, I would have savaged it beneath the tail and then tracked it as it bled to death. But I see what you mean," she said with a nod and another bright smile.

When Siiri knelt behind her, though, her face became a mask of confusion. She didn't move, shoulders a little stiff as a pair of dark arms suddenly appeared from either side of her head. She could feel the woman's warmth against her back, her nose suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of her sweat, and as she felt herself caged and caught there was a low buzzing of panic in the back of her head. Her fingers clenched into fists and her breath came just a hair faster.

“This is your first time. You might feel vulnerable and exposed with what I'm about to do. Do you trust me?”

Soft words brushing just against her ear, and for a few long moments she couldn't quite grasp what Siiri meant to do. She already felt vulnerable, worn down and beaten and confused by nearly everything she saw. Amber eyes moved from one of those dark, calloused hands to the other, back and forth, until she finally realized what was going on.

Siiri meant to choke her.

A shudder slammed through her body, violent tremors as the wolf side of her screamed and babbled its incoherent terror - but even as she first began shaking, she grabbed Siiri's wrists and held her there. That pale, newly-inked face was pressed against the inside of her bondmate's elbow, and even as she trembled and her panic flooded the connection between them, she also sent a few words, faint but unwavering. Wait, wait, wait...

It took a few breaths for the battle between the servant and the predator within her to subside, for the instincts Siiri just encouraged her to use in battle to be defeated by their bond. But that was stronger, in the end, much stronger, and just as she'd held on to the throat of the rodent, Miharu held her panic between her teeth until it quieted and died.

She lifted her head, lashes spiked with a touch of wetness, but only so she could tilt it back and press her face to Siiri's throat just as she had to her arm. With my life, came the answer, unyielding and without a hint of doubt as she nuzzled against her bondmate a moment longer. Then she straightened, and looked forward again, completely calm now as she released Siiri's wrists. "I'm ready," she said quietly.