It works. You manage to throw her to the ground , and this time, you're the one on top. You can tell from the slightly sharpened teeth, and the hint of fur creeping down from her hairline, that she wasn't expecting it.
You lean forward, your face only a few inches from hers, snap your teeth together, and smile. "You're dead."
"It's two-one," she whispers. "My favour."
"Won't be for much longer," you promise.
She grins and throws you off her.
You hit the mat hard enough to bruise. It doesn't matter. You roll, snarl, and lunge again. This time she doesn't hesitate. She comes at you as hard as you come at her, moving with the fluid, lethal grace of a practised predator.
The fighting from then on is rougher, realer, but also somehow some of the most fun you've had in a while. You're growling, but also grinning. Snarling, but also smiling. Practising, but also playing.
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