Welcome to Gaia! ::

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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."