[jrpduel-fin] fintan x creve

[Puhterodactyl]

Creve stretched his white legs into the scorching desert sunlight as he awoke that morning and scratched the sand with his black claws. He had been a resident of his little cave for a few changes of the moon, and it was still a lot to get used to. He had gone from the seaside, bitterly cold mornings cut with sharp, salty winds, to the baked earth of the desert (but it too had its cold moments, at night).

He had to condition his body more to the change in territory, so he planned to spend the day in the sparring pits, seeing who would try to challenge him. Fellow pride members? Eitri, who had left the Stormborn with him? Or someone seeking to gain entry to the pride? The white male sat on the edge of the pits, his black mane soaking in a lot of the sun's warmth and finding it nice for now, but anticipated how uncomfortable it would make him at the peak of the afternoon.  

[Puhterodactyl]

Fintan had made the Firekin pride his target for several months now, and his goal was finally in sight. He had too large of a family to be comfortable anywhere in that area if he ever wanted to settle down and start a family of his own. Luckily they were distinct enough that it was pretty easily discernible who was related to who, but why risk it? And he had also heard of a pride- one that was far enough away- who seemed to have problems with their own bloodlines, so it seemed like it would be a perfect fit.

He had arisen before the sun for the final leg of his journey and made it to the fighting pits right as the fiery orb crested the hill of the fighting pit. Fintan locked eyes with a white male with black markings and a black mane and roared a challenge.

"Will you accept my duel?"  

[Puhterodactyl]

Creve nodded and lept down towards the challenger, and took a moment or two to pace around him. Where Creve was the sort of lion that the Firekin called "fireless"- lacking any red, orange or yellow. What he lacked, this challenger seemed to have in spades. The challenger was of average size, he judged, and didn't seem to be any battle hardened veteran. Creve's scrutiny couldn't be certain- but he seemed like your average, run-of-the mill who thought he was fit for the tough life in the desert. But that was for the duel to determine, not him.

He took a swipe at the challenger, but it wasn't a good hit. Should he have warmed up more?  

[Puhterodactyl]

Fintan was surprised by the other lion's immediacy in beginning of the duel, but he figured it had to do with part of the screening. Was a lion truly prepared for the realities of war and battle if they needed some sort of clear cut start signal? Battles weren't fought so politely. He probably would have been able to make a better hit if he'd been that prepared, but at least the other lion's strike didn't connect well, either. He leapt backwards and tried to steel himself for the Firekin's next move.  

[Puhterodactyl]

Creve had managed to duck just out of the way to avoid the challenger's attempted assault, and danced backwards in the soft sand to purchase some distance. The further he started from, the more time and space he had to build momentum and force. He started forward and rose to his hind legs before raising a paw to swing down. The rogue was somewhat surprised, but not enough to fully avoid the attack. Creve landed a glancing blow, but it was the best he'd managed as of yet.  

[Puhterodactyl]

The blow that the black and white lion landed on Creve around his eyes and ears. The lion was sent stumbling backwards with his ears ringing and head throbbing just a bit. But perhaps it was enough to light a certain spark within the splotchy pink and orange and yellow and white lion. He snarled (not really at his opponent- more at his own inability) and danced back, mimicking what his opponent had done. He furrowed his brows and shook his head and mane, as if to rid the last of the ringing from his ears. He charged forward, using his full weight and his momentum to throw his shoulder into his opponent. fintan hada bit of an edge with a slight size advantage, but it was still anyone's game.  

[Puhterodactyl]

Fintan's hit landed well and true, Creve was sent tumbling head over feet over tail into the sand. He was grateful, at least, for the softer impact. The white lion tried to stand but his leg buckled underneath him before he was able to try again and at least get his joints to sort of lock into place while he waited for his true strength to return to his limbs. He was panting and sandy, and wondering if he'd misjudged the challenge. He tried to retaliate and lashed out, but he hadn't given himself enough time to recharge. His strike wooshed past Fintan's ear and he growled to himself. A miss.  

[Puhterodactyl]

Fintan capitalized on his success and following Creve's missed attack, he thrust his head upward into the lion's exposed underbelly. Creve was sent flying, rolling and tumbling. He felt a surge of pride and power, and a roar escaped his maw. He shook his bright pink-orange mane and paced around Creve, as the white and black lion struggled to his feet.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest from the thrill of the duel. Fintan had never had to be much of a fighter. In all honesty he'd really only grappled with prey when hunting, but fighting another lion was on such a different level and totally new to him. He knew it was vital that these pride members have these skills, so his excitement was growing with each time his blows managed to connect.  

[Puhterodactyl]

While Creve struggled to right himself, a cough and a bit of blood escaped, staining his white fur and the sand beneath it, but he quickly wiped it off of his chin and buried the evidence in the desert. How did this guy get so good at fighting?! he wondered. He got his paws beneath him but almost fell again- it seemed he'd done something like rolling an ankle when he tried breaking his impact. If he could push himself a little bit for a short time, he should be alright, but anything too extreme and he could permanently cripple himself over a little duel. He clenched his jaw.

Roaring, he ran at Fintan and managed to land a decent swipe on the male's side. Nothing as effective as the last blow from Fintan, but he'd done worse, too. Creve made sure not to use his bad paw in the strike.  

[Puhterodactyl]

Somehow, Creve's attack had been better than his last, despite the new injuries he'd sustained. The soldier caught the challenger smack-dab in the face and uncomfortably close to his eye. Blood started welling up on his white snout and running into his mouth as he panted. But understood that Creve would not have meant to put his eye out or even really tried to. This was just a duel, not a real battle, so Fintan pushed on past the close call.

He roared and made a quick dash to Creve's side with the bad foot, and another quick feint to throw him off before his real blow — a strike to the head. Creve roared in return at the impact and was thrown off his feet. Fintan paced around the momentarily felled lion.  

[Puhterodactyl]

The repeated blows had really finally caught up to Creve, especially with the latest near-knockout punch. He was slower to get to his feet than the last time, which he was slower to get up from than the time before. He grimaced and mistakenly put weight on his bad ankle, making him snarl and growl in frustration. Panting heavily and clearly bleeding (thanks to the stark contrast of the bright red blood against his snowy white coat), he challenged himself to try at least one more blow, then he could say he had earnestly and honestly tried his best.

Maybe he shouldn't have even bothered, though, he was about to discover. His last chance attack fell short, thanks to his injured ankle that failed him once more. He had to at least go out fighting, he figured.  

[Puhterodactyl]

Fintan was about to go in for a finishing blow, but facing Creve's weakened and ill-aimed strike, he could not bring himself to deal a crushing defeat. Not for something like this. He would need to have that level of resolve to live here, for it may be called upon some day in a real battle, but not today. There was no purpose to or honor about winning like that. So he pulled back and reigned it in a bit. He tried to make it seem earnest but Creve could probably tell that it was largely feigned. It was more of a swipe than a strike, but it was enough to make Creve call it quits.  

[Puhterodactyl]

"Well fought, challenger," the soldier said wearily. "You've won your place among us."

Fintan was too exhausted for a smile that reflected his joy, but maybe that was for the best; he'd heard that Firekin weren't really the smiley type. He nodded.

"Many thanks. I'm Fintan, by the way. I'm glad to be joining your ranks."

"Fintan, nice to meet you. Creve, Creve'coeur..."

Both of the lions bobbed their heads in greeting, thanks and mutual respect.

"Let me show you the way to some of our medics... lucky for you, you won't be needing them as sorely as I do," Creve said with a slightly pained smile.

Fintan grinned in return and fell in behind Creve.

"Lead the way."