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Mooo nodded at that, tossing the gloves to Wyvern. "Name's Mooo--don't ask," he added with a chuckle, as he'd often received funny looks when he introduced himself. "And don't worry about it--smaller guys are able to more easily distribute and shift their weight to hit harder, with less strain on their bodies."

He calmly gave the explanation as he tugged on his own gloves, pulling the second one tighter with his teeth--they had a simple "one size fits all" design that allowed them to cling tightly to his wrists. Being sparring gloves, it helped that anyone could pick them up and use them.

Mooo made his way into the sparring circle, rolling his shoulders out and tilting his upper body from side to side. "I'm no expert," he said as he gestured for Wyvern to join him into the ring. "But I teach others the way I was taught. You're gonna learn by doing!" he said with a broad smile, stretching his shoulders out, his arms back as he lowered his center of gravity, feet flat on the ground, knees bent almost halfway. His guard remained down, though, waiting for Wyvern to signal that he was ready.

Mooo's stance was solid--feet flat on the ground, knees bent at strong 45-degree angles, hunkered over with his abdomen curled, his elbows tucked in close, fists placed just under his jaw for protection, palms facing in. It was a tight stance designed for fighting in-close--something he did quite well, thank you very much.

"The first thing you'll need to worry about--" he said as he closed distance with a sudden step forward, "--is the jab!" Mooo said, his left arm suddenly coming to life, his fist snapping forward, obviously aimed high at Wyvern's face. It wouldn't be an overly powerful attack from him, but it would sting if it connected. The telegraphing of the move was for Wyvern's benefit--should he catch the obvious movement of Mooo's shoulder, the flick of his eyes toward his target, he would react accordingly and guard.

******** slappy fighters, always parrying and not taking the best course of action. Oh well--Mooo knew the type well. He also knew they didn't expect this kind of follow-up to their parry, either.

As his jab was smacked aside, Mooo's left foot slid forward, using his height advantage and the length of his legs to close distance with Wyvern, his left shoulder less than a foot from Wyvern's torso as his left arm retracted, tucking back in and then suddenly scooping up from beneath, aiming to get directly between Wyvern's guarding arms in a short upper aimed for Wyvern's chin.

However, Mooo's intent wasn't to hit Wyvern--it was simply to show him that just because a single attack had been nullified, that didn't mean that the weapon one defended against was no longer a threat.

The lag that Mooo gave to show the dangers of disregarding your opponent's weapons ironically worked against him--his hand, stopped short from Wyvern's chin, was suddenly smacked down, and by the turn of Wyvern's hips, a left was coming--but there wasn't much Mooo could do about it.

Thankfully, his right hand was up already in position, as he hadn't followed up his second left, and just barely raising his glove, he was able to use it to absorb most of the impact of the punch. However, as his guard was done quickly and thus, weak, Wyvern's fist slammed into his guarding hand, bouncing his own glove against his face and causing his head to snap backward reflexively. Mooo was off-balance in a sparring match due to his own carelessness--and things could only go downhill from here.

Off-balance, Mooo leaned back for only a moment as his right leg slid backward to hold himself up. He would've regained himself faster if not for Wyvern's right that crashed against his abdomen, Mooo's head tilting down automatically from the force of Wyvern's weight behind the punch.

Fortunately for Mooo, his left hand was still outstretched, finally dropping to his waist-level--just where he needed it. His left foot twisted sharply in place, his hips torquing, his shoulder bracing itself as his left fist swung in a tight arc for the right side of Wyvern's rib cage. Not quite thinking it through completely, Mooo had unintentionally thrown the punch with much more force than he'd intended, a little annoyed by his short-stopped punch being taken advantage of in such a way. Even with sixteen-ounce gloves on, the weight of Mooo's punch would more than likely have quite obvious results on Wyvern's smaller frame, unfortunately.

Mooo didn't expect Wyvern to go for a left--he was this close-in, he might as well try for another right, but the torque he'd get from a full left would be substantial, and would prove damaging even to someone of his size and more or less superhuman durability. It was almost as if the circle itself had removed any paranormal abilities and strengths of any kind, instead forcing the trainees to rely on purely physical talents.

Refraining from using his right, Mooo instead turned his attention to the body blow that was coming in, the strong left that would again chip away at his overall stamina and strength. Mooo's right arm tucked in, blocking the punch with his bent arm, using his elbow and the crook of his forearm to take the blow, satisfied that the attack had been nullified for the moment.

Shifting his weight to his right side, Mooo took a small step forward, changing his position so he now stood with his blocking right arm forward, his left tucked back behind him. So far, all he'd thrown in this spar were lefts, and he figured it was still the best solution in this situation. Planting his right leg, twisting his foot in place, and torquing his hip again, his left flew straight out, twisting slightly in its flight for Wyvern's mouth--a simple left straight intended to snap Wyvern's head back and lead into something else, hopefully.

Mooo's eyes went wide as his straight was thrown off-course, unable to react in time as Wyvern's fist clipped his jaw, causing his actions to freeze for a moment. It was tough to move after a blow to the jaw--pinpoint strikes to the chin, and even grazing strikes to the jaw rattled the skull, messing up a person's movement after being hit.

However, Mooo had no intention of getting knocked the hell out by somebody smaller than him in a sparring match, so he grit his teeth and forced himself forward. Getting into the opponent's face would lower his attack power--and Mooo's, as well, but it would either force Wyvern back, leaving an opening, or force him to attack, leaving even more openings.

Mooo didn't smile--at least outwardly. That would give away his intentions. He kept a straight face, his guard up and tight against his chin, elbows tucked to his body as he eased his right shoulder down, sinking his stance a bit to accept the body blow. This one didn't have as much weight riding on it as the previous ones, much like the last one that brushed his jaw, so he could take it in exchange for the promise of a larger payoff.

Separating his arms and opening his guard, Mooo welcomed the strike, exhaling sharply upon impact, then moving into a new attack pattern that would hopefully pressure his opponent into doing something stupid. The first hook swung out in a powerful arc, his left fist going for Wyvern's right temple. Mooo's right hand was tucked near his hip, though, staying prepped for just the right moment...