Sah
It startles Sah slightly when Maeve growls, giving her even more of an advantage as she flips their positions. The Outlander can't help the snarl that leaves him, a rumbling growl whose vibrations are felt more by their proximity then it's heard. He does not like being pinned, not in the least. And he really doesn't' like that he can't push her off at the moment not with her arm at his throat.
"Whose rules?", he counters, narrowing his eyes at her. The anger is dissipating into eagerness and excitement. This spar is beginning to feel like the ones back home. As such, Sah gives in to instinct. Using the meager room she's provided; he tilts his head and bites the upper part of the arm at his throat. Not enough to cut but enough to bruise if she doesn't let go soon.
"Whose rules?", he counters, narrowing his eyes at her. The anger is dissipating into eagerness and excitement. This spar is beginning to feel like the ones back home. As such, Sah gives in to instinct. Using the meager room she's provided; he tilts his head and bites the upper part of the arm at his throat. Not enough to cut but enough to bruise if she doesn't let go soon.
My soul is in the sky
-William Shakespeare
-William Shakespeare
