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Him snagging her wrist had been unexpected, but it was nothing to the arm that snaked around her waist and jerked her back against him. It was enough to shock the dainty Sun into stillness, at least for a second. Pale eyes widening before long fingers were leaving her wrist and tangling in ombre curls. She had a split second to realize what he intended, lips pulling back to let out a snarled warning, then he was yanking on those gold and pink locks and instead of the growl, she gasped.

Bright purple met those baby blues as he looked down at her, and she stared up into his face, lost between pissed and something primal and damn near impossible to fight against. She swallowed, muscles moving in the slender column her throat.

Then he was shoving her away, and she stumbled once before regaining her balance, jerking around to face him with eyes blazing. "That was quite brazen."

Likely, he was expecting the girl to be pissed, and it was there, certainly. A hard, heated edge to her voice that purred out, but she grinned at him, excited and eager, as small fingers tightened around the handles of her weapon. If that was the way Horace wanted to play, then he had picked the right Sun to challenge.

Of course Peyton enjoyed the role as a mentor, but what really made her little heart sing was a certain vicious ruthlessness. Violence and vindication, tit for tat. Warrick chimed in, reminding her that he was just a trainee, but she laughed, giddy. They were in the training field, he'd be just fine.

"Here we go," she purred up at him, and that sweet little smile grew brighter. Then she was moving, the runes on the blades of her daggers blazing, and if she was fast before it was nothing to her speed now. The girl was damn near a blur as she rushed him. Over and over she slashed and stabbed at him, punching and jabbing. Blow after blow that would be impossible to block, let alone dodge, and the barrage would end with the hard connect of dainty knuckles into the underside of his chin in a wicked uppercut.

HP: 31
DMG: 18
CHG: 0/3

She watched with a certain perverse pleasure as he reeled away from her, falling to his knees with a heavy thud. He'd even bled for her, and that pale gaze lingered there at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't much, a little drop, but it slid too slow from the edge of his lip. A grin touched her own, pleased, maybe even a little expectant.

He was unsteady as he got to his feet, swaying slightly, and for a handful of seconds Peyton thought, with some disappointment, that this was it. She'd pushed him too far, and just a trainee, he would have to throw in the towel, but he surprised her again. Tekkos touched, runes flashing brightly, and that light arched between them before sinking into the hunter himself. It had the girl blinking, features curious, before that delicate chin tipped to the side and once again she was smiling. For the comment, for the heal she knew he'd just pulled off. That fierce grin he threw at her.

"Feel better, Sunshine?" There was no point asking if he wanted to continue, that expression said it all. He wasn't going to go down easily, and that was just fine with Pey. She preferred it this way, this ferocious tenacity. Fighting with everything you had, like every exchange was life and death, and you aimed to kill, not to win.

Lunging, she streaked in past the reach of his arms, beyond his defenses. he had him on reach, but she dominated on speed. It was a quick cut to the abdomen, and when his body automatically reacted, bending towards her, she brought her other hand around in a powerful right hook. Aiming not just for his cheek, but to a point two inches into his skull.

HP: 31
DMG: 9
CHG: 1/3

This was where Peyton flourished, where she felt the most alive. Not teaching, not exactly, though she was good at it. Fighting, violence, going all out against another person that was willing to do the same. That could not only take the abuse, but maybe deep down enjoyed it every bit as much as she did. Giving and receiving.

He spat blood and her grin widened a touch, very nearly feral, before he was lunging at her again, going low this time to aim for one of her knees. It hit, but a quick jerk had him connecting with the side of her calf instead of her knee, protecting the joint, even if the hit was solid and pulled her breath out in a painful hiss.

Then he was yanking at her shirt, a harsh tug that was meant to pull her off balance, and she heard the almost rip of straining seams. "Watch it, Nokoni. You tear my shirt, I'll tear off a finger." But she didn't aim for his hand, yet. Instead she snapped a hand out to grab a handful of his hair, jerking his head forward as she brought her left knee up into his face.

HP: 26
DMG: 2
CHG: 2/3

He just kept on surprising her, every time that smile refused to falter. She returned it, chin lifting almost haughtily before he was lunging for her again. It was an unsteady rush, balance compromised by the beating he'd already taken, and she barely had to move for him to miss his mark,. A fist sailed harmlessly past her arm, but he stumbled, before he could regain his balance, falling against her, hands groping for anything to keep him from smacking into the ground again.

What he found was her shirt, and lavender eyes widened as she heard the sound of tearing clothe, felt the rush of air swirl in against her skin. The flimsy cotton tore from collar downward, damn near in two, and was left in ribbons around her upper body.

Once upon a time this would have been enough to send the Sun into fits. A year ago, maybe even months ago, cheeks would have glowed, and she'd have given a furious shriek before darting back to the dorms.

Well, after she'd planted her foot into the side of his face, of course.

Now she blinked down at herself, at the sharp contrast between tanned skin and bright blue lace, then down to the young man on his knees at her feet. The compliment was met with a cold twist of lips, and pretty eyes narrowed down on him. Small fingers closed in the material that still hung around her, and she yanked at it, tearing it free. It was ruined anyways. "I liked that shirt, a*****e."

At it fluttered from her hand she turned back to him with a c**k of her head. "I did warn you." With only that for a warning she was bouncing back a step, as if she had springs in the soles of her feet, and before he'd have time for so much as a flinch she was swinging one small boot clad foot around for a roundhouse kick to the side of his head that would lay his tall a** out across the lawn.


HP: 26
DMG: 12
CHG: 3/3

Peyton, warrior princess.

He hit the ground with a heavy thump and a pained groan, and the Sun lowered her foot once again, hands dropping down at her sides. Fingers curled in loose holds around the handles of her daggers. Watching, head tilted, a smile on her face, as he rolled slowly onto his back to look up at her. There was a feeble twitch of his foot, the flick of a pebble, but it bounced harmlessly off the toe of her boot before disappearing into the grass. Even laid out, beaten and bleeding, he still tried to fight back. Brazen indeed.

And he certainly had a mouth on him. "More than you'd think." He wasn't the first person to look up at her from the flat of their back, not by a long shot, and he most certainly would not be the last.

{And this would hopefully not be the last time he was sprawled at her feet.}

She figured his shield was about toast, so the admittance had the corners of soft lips ticking up, but he couldn't leave well enough alone. With a laugh she moved closer, standing over him with a foot on either side of his waist, and she shook her head as she sank down in a crouch, hands tucked up over her knees as she met his eyes. "You don't have anything left to give at the moment," she answered him sadly, and the point of one dagger dipped down, swinging back and fourth over his chest before the tip came to rest against his sternum. "But if you want to play again," she grinned, expression knowing(like it wasn't obvious). "I never turn down a fight." She leaned forward as she said it, one pushing against the dagger, weight settling on top of it until the tip sank in.

He'd feel it, certainly, but they were on the training field. As fast as the pain came it seemed to dull, and he didn't bleed for her this time, not as the wards soaked up the damage, protecting him. She leaned over him until her hair tickled his cheeks, and she gave one a pat before her weapons vanished, reforming as the rings that circled her thumbs.


HP: 26
DMG: 4 - 3 = 1 Yay wards!
CHG: Naw, this would be overkill.

Long fingers had wrapped around her wrist, and she'd watched his face, those pretty eyes as he helped her stab him. Of course he knew it wouldn't mean death, but it would hurt all the same, and as his smile faltered, body twitching beneath her, Peyton knew shed have a new face to add to her nightmares. Only this one would smile as she watched the light dim in his eyes and blood trickle from the corner of his mouth. It would be interesting to see if those dreams she woke screaming from, or if there would be some perverse satisfaction attached. No way of knowing until it had happened.

She gave the hand on her wrist a look after his question, and brows ticked up in inquiry. "Wasn't planning on it." Turning her hand she caught his own wrist, then she was straightening out, lifting his arm with her. Not pulling him to his feet, yet, but ready to. He was a tough b*****d, she didn't think he'd stay down long.

"It's not very often I have that much fun fighting a trainee." A compliment with multiple meanings. "You gunna need a doctor?"

She watched him dubiously as his breath came in a pained hiss, but didn't push it. He knew his limits, and besides, she didn't really feel like wandering through the halls of the infirmary shirtless. There were a few hunters that frequented the area she knew who wouldn't have been willing to let her live it down. For various reasons.

So she took her hand back as he got his feet under him, laughing at the hot nurse comment and giving jet another shake of her head. "Don't know when you quit, do you?" It didn't sound as if she minded, but there were others on the island that would. Granted, it seemed to her that he'd really enjoyed the thrashing she'd just given him, so maybe the snark had a purpose. Who was she, of all people, to judge?

"I thought maybe I'd knock some sense into you," she answered his question mildly, smirking. Small hands came to rest on her hips, mostly covering the strawberry blossom tattoos that rested there. "I had fun, too. We'll have to do it again some time." It was rare she got to go all out against someone. Usually she was training, or hiding just how very much she enjoyed herself. There were only a few other hunters in island she was free to just unleash on, and Horace had just made the list.