and claws exposed and ready to tear into her vulnerable flesh.
The young doe tracked him, moving only her head to follow the Kin's path. She was watching over her shoulder as he approached again, leaping into the air to tear at At the last minute the doe turned her body and her back. At the last moment she stepped aside, intending to allow the pup to sail past, but the Kin was faster than she had anticipated. Curling over himself, the pup lashed out as he passed, his sharp claws catching her arm and tearing shallow gashes across her skin. A midair somersault allowed the Kin to land on his feet, facing the tarin once more, and he leapt at her before she had time to move again.
Barely given time to react, the doe jerked her arm up defensively, driven back a step by the weight of the Kin pup as he collided with her. His curved teeth sank deeply into her wrist just behind the metal cuff. Giving a snarl, the Kin began to shake his head violently while he clawed at the tarin's body with all four of his feet, ripping at her skin and causing several deep cuts.
His attack was soon halted, however, with a loud and sudden crack as the doe's fist connected with the Kin's forehead. The pup released her arm immediately and fell to the ground with a yelping cry, scrambling unsteadily away, his ragged body swaying drunkenly with every step. The doe watched his retreat in readiness for another attack, but the pup simply collapsed to the ground, cradling his head in his large paws and whimpering miserably.
Daring to take her attention off of the pup for a moment, the doe looked down at the tiny bird, who remained huddled down into the grass as much as it could in hopes of becoming invisible to the pair of combatants towering above. With careful steps, the doe once again placed her large hooves protectively to either side of the injured avian, then lifted her head to look for the pup. He was gone.
Giving a snort of annoyance, the tarin's ears flipped back tightly against her skull, tired of the Kin's games. It was time to finally end things. Careful not to step on the tiny bird, the doe turned, catching fleeting sight of a blur as the pup circled behind her again. A slash at the back of her leg made the tarin kick out reflexively, but the Kin had already moved beyond reach. Claws tearing at her thigh made her spin again, but once more the pup had moved out of her reach, circling rapidly.
The doe's nostrils were filled with the smell of her own blood as it poured from various wounds, all of them superficial yet together were meant to weaken her and exhaust her. The Kin pup could not take her at full strength, so he was attempting to chip away at her until she collapsed and became easy prey, but the doe would tolerate no more of it.
As the Kin's teeth clicked soundly against the shackle surrounding one ankle, the tarin let loose a tremendous bellow, her hands curling into tight fists, causing the pup to freeze for one fatal moment in awe-struck confusion and fear. Fingers slippery with blood grasped the back of his neck and lifted him off of the ground, leaving the stunned pup's legs dangling limply like match sticks beneath him. He snapped out of his stupor just before the tarin's fist struck against his skull, kicking out with his hind legs and shoving himself upward away from the furious tarin but not free of her wrath.
While missing the intended target, the doe's large fist slammed brutally into the Kin's ribs, shattering several of the long, thin bones and sending the Kin's body downward. Before his inert form could strike the ground, the doe's knee came up and halted his decent, causing the pup's spine to bow back across her leg. Another kick sent him limply into the air again before he was swatted away backhandedly, like a pesky insect. As limp as a corpse, the pup went flying to the ground and rolled for several feet before finally coming to a rest.
For several breaths, the Kin lay still, the faint trembling of his side, nearly hidden among the tangle of his limbs, the only sign that he still lived at all. The air itself seemed to grow heavy with expectation and the tarin kept a wary eye on the pup as she slowly lowered herself to one knee. The pup was badly injured, and would die shortly if left without proper care, but nothing was more dangerous than an injured Kin fighting death; even an inexperienced one.
Her flat ears extended to catch any sound from the predator, the doe dared to look down at the bird she was trying to protect. The tiny sparrow, no bigger than half a finger's length, was still doing it's best to disappear into the trampled grass, it's injured wing pulled closer to it's huddled body, although the broken appendage still stuck half way out at an unnatural angle. Seeing that the tarin's attention was back on it again, the small bird dared to lift it's head and give her a pleading chirrup. The doe nodded as if she could understand what the bird was saying, and wiped her blood-coated hand along the ground, only managing to coat its slick surface with dirt and grit rather than cleaning it.
Looking at her filthy palm, the tarin gave a snort of annoyance and shook her head before a sound caused her to abruptly twist at the waist, her arm rising instinctively to protect her. The Kin pup had somehow managed to rise and approach her unnoticed, and only a last moment snarl from the pup had alerted her to his attack.
Wicked teeth caught and sank into the flesh of her large hand while the pup's limbs spread out, claws tilted upward as they rapidly approached. It was the pup's last ditch effort to save itself and kill his opponent, or at least maim her enough to make his escape. Aimed for her throat and soft belly, if allowed to continue their intended path the Kin's claws would slice open veins and wind pipe with the fore claws while the hind claws disemboweled the doe.
Although caught by surprise, the doe had no intention of allowing the beast to carve her up like a roast. Her large ears flattened against her skull in rage and her eyes widened. The thick fingers of her bitten hand stretched out and curled downward to grasp tightly to the pup's bottom jaw. The doe let out a deafening scream of black rage as the muscles in her entire arm tensed, the skin almost appearing to ripple, as if something beneath the surface was uncoiling. The knot of her shoulder hunched up against her neck a moment before thrusting away again. Still clinging tightly to the Kin's bottom jaw, her own hand captured securely within the grip of the pup's teeth, the doe's arm pushed outward.
The Kin's claws slashed the air in front of the tarin ineffectively as he was pushed away from her, her infuriated war cry still filling his ears, but he was given no chance at a second attack. Instead of releasing her grip, the doe's arm continued to move, arcing downward and taking the pup with it, tilting him further and further backwards until his body impacted the ground with the shuddering force of the doe's powerful attack.
It was over within the space of a breath. The entire scene witnessed or missed with the blinking of an eye. As the displaced soil rained back to the ground, the pair seemed frozen in their last act, the Kin laying flat on it's back in the crater its body had created in the soft grass, his eyes wide and staring unseeing at the sky, his jaws still clamped around the hand of the tarin, who continued to grip his bottom jaw. His chest gave a few shallow flutters before it to fell still and the last of the pup's life was lost in a single warm puff of breath against the doe's palm.
The doe still knelt on the grass beside him, the heaving of her own chest from her heavy breaths and the trembling twitch of her tail her only movements. For several long moments they remained in place, and the silence began to grow weighty with expectation. The quiet chirp of the injured sparrow rang out loudly, even echoing several times before finally dying away.
“Laaaaaaaaadies and geeeeeentlemen!” A voice suddenly boomed in the smothering silence. “Nadiiiiiiiraaaaaaaah the wooooooolf calleeeeeeer!”
The tarin let her head sink as the words were followed by applause. Shy at first, as if the audience was unsure if they should be witnessing the event that had just taken place, then skyrocketing after it finally gained a foothold. Nadirah let out a bone-weary sigh and bowed her head lower before carefully removing her hand from the dead pup's jaws. After a moment spent to inspect the damage, she bent down until her mouth hovered above the pup's ear. “You fought well.” She whispered to him. “You can rest now.”
&nbs
p; The rattle of metal as key was inserted into lock warned the doe that the gate to the fight pen was being opened. Laying her hands on the ground a moment, seemingly to steady herself, she took her time rising and turning to face the gate, her hands curling into loose fists at her sides.
“A'right, you crazeh cow, no trubah this time, heah?” The man said as he entered the fenced ring. He did not dare to turn his back on the tarin as he passed his keys to a dwarf who remained standing at the gate. Once the man was inside, the gate was quickly relocked behind him. In his arms he carried several loops of heavy chain.
Nadirah snorted disdainfully, but slowly lifted her arms, hands tilting up at the wrist to offer the loops attached to her heavy shackles. From long experience they had learned how to deal with each other; caravan and tarin.
After the deaths of several workers and nearly successful escape attempts, those of the caravan learned that there was no such thing as too many precautions when it came to their prized fighter. In turn, Nadirah had learned to bide her time, cooperate just enough to allow her keepers to become sloppy, then take advantage of any opportunity they gave her while she