Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2009 16:44:03 GMT -5
Mikaela’s logical mind was groaning in disgust. The she-wolf within had resorted to survival tactics and led her fighting style to be flawed and brutal when she could land a hit. Wolves didn’t think with as much logic as a human and Mikaela’s human sided mind was beginning to worry about the outcome of this fight. However, Mikaela took more hits than what she needed. A few more hits to the side of broken ribs had caused her almost to lose her balance twice in the fight.
The moonlight filtered in and Vlad stopped. Mikaela ceased her own attack. Her eyes took in the vampire’s appearance. Surely, he had taken wounds, but Mikaela hadn’t been able to make a solid, crippling wound yet. The she-wolf had three such injuries. The head wound was slow to heal; the blood from the wound running along the curves of her face. Her right cheek was a deep purple from the bruise that formed with the broken cheek bone. And finally, the broken ribs that hindered her agility and the smoothness in the way she fought.
She growled slightly at Vlad’s comment. She refused to lose, even if it was fighting for her survival. It was just that one mistake. She could fight with broken ribs. It would be a discomfort; however one could fight with them. The disorienting blow to the head from ducking though was still causing her some trouble. Her brown eyes narrowed when Vlad persisted in trying to strike a chord with the she-wolf. Words didn’t bother her though.
She eased on to her back foot, getting ready for another round, but that wouldn’t come. The fierce roar that echoed in the broken plant made Mikaela’s eyes grow round for a moment, but she knew who it was. His scent, faint, drifted into her nose. Her eyes drifted above. She could see his shape above them. His name graced her lips in a breathy whisper, “Connor…”
The moonlight filtered in and Vlad stopped. Mikaela ceased her own attack. Her eyes took in the vampire’s appearance. Surely, he had taken wounds, but Mikaela hadn’t been able to make a solid, crippling wound yet. The she-wolf had three such injuries. The head wound was slow to heal; the blood from the wound running along the curves of her face. Her right cheek was a deep purple from the bruise that formed with the broken cheek bone. And finally, the broken ribs that hindered her agility and the smoothness in the way she fought.
She growled slightly at Vlad’s comment. She refused to lose, even if it was fighting for her survival. It was just that one mistake. She could fight with broken ribs. It would be a discomfort; however one could fight with them. The disorienting blow to the head from ducking though was still causing her some trouble. Her brown eyes narrowed when Vlad persisted in trying to strike a chord with the she-wolf. Words didn’t bother her though.
She eased on to her back foot, getting ready for another round, but that wouldn’t come. The fierce roar that echoed in the broken plant made Mikaela’s eyes grow round for a moment, but she knew who it was. His scent, faint, drifted into her nose. Her eyes drifted above. She could see his shape above them. His name graced her lips in a breathy whisper, “Connor…”