Ariste stood, staring at the creamy pelted fae before her, expression unreadable. Her eyes darkened slightly, but still stubbornly refused to reveal what she was currently thinking. A breeze tore her fur away from clinging to her body,  warm with the summer sun. Her claws were automatically sunk into the soft terrain, paws planted firmly should an attempt to surprise her be thrown her way. Her tail flicked behind her, dancing as a cat's would, anticipating the rush of fighting, a thirst for the tang of blood coursing through her like a powerful electric shock. How she missed this. But hadn't realized she had, for a long time. 'A spar? A fight for rank, indeed, for what other reason? Entertainment, I wouldn't put it past Teren. But how shall thou fare?' She mentally shook away the grating voice, back-side stepping a couple steps away. Not in fear, no, but to place more distance between them and lengthen the time a charge would take - subsequently for both of them, but giving her more reaction time. Eyes squinting as she immediately vaulted herself into inspecting her chances and options, she quickly sized up her opponent, gaze sweeping over her whole frame, trying to assess what she could. 'Strong, but not un-agile. Tricky.' She also had a proper stance, so it'd be better to find a weakness than to try an unbalance a fae somewhat larger than herself. Muscled yet fleet footed, Ariste weighed her odds against this female.

"Greetings fae, I wish you luck." The voice dragged her from her analyzing, and her cool golden eyes raised to meet those of the pale wolf before her. Tensing and tucking her tail, she lowered herself towards the earth, letting gravity pull her downwards just enough to steady her stance. The girl's voice was even and unbiased, though the obsidian Ariste didn't care if she had meant it truthfully or not. "Who needs luck? Luck is fickle - and powerless against skill." She replied wryly, a sarcastic smirk quirking the corner of her maw up for less than a second before disappearing again. "Believing in luck means you fail to believe in your abilities. A weak wolf grasping at straws." She was subconsciously speaking just for time, the other she-wolf had probably recognized that though. Paws seeming to move upon their own accord, she half began shallowly half-circling the fellow Warrior a mere three steps, a growl forming in her chest, but not voiced yet, a quiet and vicious rumble kept at bay for the moment. She knew the moment the fight started she would have to rely simply in instinct, so all the better reason to take note of everything now. The canine across from her seemed to make no move to attack, instead moving to defend herself.

'Not initiating the fight...' She mused, mimicking the other female, curling upper lip and wrinkling her nose. Her tongue dragged over her fangs in a taunting gesture, but did not wish to waste any further time on snide remarks. Hind legs tensing, she shot off towards her target, in the form of a colorless  bitch, standing dangerously in the way of her and a chance for a more respectable rank. As she ran at her, her muzzle tilted down as her head ducked down, protecting her neck to searching fangs. Eyes fixing on the other's crown, she didn't run completely head on, but slightly aside her on an angle, finally letting go of the snarl she had been holding silent. Waiting until the right moment, she vaulted herself into the air with a twisting leap, appearing to attempt to knock her over, but was aiming to land just at her side - within biting distance, going for her nape and base of her scull. Should she try to fight back, she would try to grip the sensitive ear in her fangs, not enough mercy in her body to stop her from tearing it. She didn't intend either of them leaving without scars, winner and loser alike.

Ariste twisted and coiled through the air, soon landing where she had expected, paws planting and claws instinctively curling into the dirt. Maw curling for the other fae's nape, she felt her fangs scrape by her neck, teeth clicking as her mouth snapped shut, but falling on semi-empty air, unable to grasp its target enough to tear away a chunk of flesh. Being this dangerously close to a foe could  be both win and lose, blessing and curse at the same time. At the same time, she felt a heavy force knock into her chest, following by a searing pain shooting through her upper torso, a crack reverberating from her ribcage. She stumbled backwards, wheezing in a sharp breath, partially in anger at herself, but mostly from the burning jolt the rippled through her body, making her flinch. Cracked or broken? Her jaws tightened shut before they had barely opened, enough for her to taste the tang of blood, but not enough for the coppery liquid to swarm into her mouth, to stop herself from crying out. Her eyes and expression remained blank, refusing to display any sign of slight weakness as her tactical and trained mind worked past her injury. 'Don't let your guard down! She wouldn't be stupid enough to give you time to recover.' Her mind screamed at her, and she instinctively, fleetingly twisted, rolling away from the immediate spot she was standing on. It was never safe to stand still in a fight when your enemy was out of sight, it was basic and common knowledge.

Her theory proved correct when ivory teeth scantily failed in embedding themselves into the obsidian demoness' hind leg. She felt a sharp sting and droplets of blood falling from the cut. She didn't break her concentration to check, but she could tell it was not shallow but not quite deep enough to be considered a slash. Her pain sinking to the dark and shadowy corners of her mind for the moment, she focused on the thrill of battle, while everything seemed to take less than a moment, it passed slowly, as if it took hours from the moment you leapt to see how your victim had handled the attack. Swinging back onto her paws as quickly as she had rolled, she twisted her head around, followed by her body as she worked out how to use her smaller size against the phantom Vix, her colorless hue living well up to her name - Tundra, a snowcovered land. Audits twisting so the sensitive inner ear was facing opposite to her, Ariste's onyx lobes flew back to press tightly to her scull, clinging to it to avoid harm. Judging from where Ariste had been before rolling, her and Tundra should have still been side-by-side had she not turned away, just slightly farther apart, yet still closer together than at the beginning of the spar. The Warrior galloped for Tundra, a sight fleeting, but with tensed hind paws, back legs and hindquarters powerfully propelling the femme forward.

Hardened and cold golden eyes locked onto her target, another, more subtle growl forcing its way out of her chest and throat, demanding impatiently to be heard. Not bothering to deny it, her jowls twisted to display her cuspids, her dial presenting a close-mouthed grimace at her opponent, not about to show mercy to her for any reason, and could tell that the mentality was shared. Black at white, yet this white was just as dark as her, and a worthy fighter as well. Packing more force into her last bound and tucking her frame down, she shot towards the pale bitch, twisting her shoulder to her. Tucking her chin, she lowered her head, tail curling out of harm's way as she swallowed another growl, claws flexing as she prepared to land. She coiled, attempting to angle herself alongside the other female, neck stretching out. Should she succeed in slamming her shoulder into the other she-beast with force, she knew she couldn't knock her over, but she would then use her shoulder and back to try to get the other woman onto her back paws, canines reaching for the tender throat. She didn't aim to kill, but if she failed in her attempt to get the other unbalanced on her hinds, she could try to lock a throat hold and wrestle the upper-paw into her possession.

Ariste growled as she noticed the other wolf shift her positioning, so the darkling fae hit not her shoulder, but one of her front legs. Once again hissing in a pained breath, though she had braced herself she felt the impact of hitting the other canine rattle her aching chest, firing another jolt of pain through her body. A low, deep growl vibrated from her throat, escaping the grasp of the shadowy females vocal cords and voicing her annoyance. Angrily driving her claws into the ground, she twisted her head around to seek out the phantom she-wolf, wasting no time to recollect her focus. Her body followed her head, every second counted, and Tundra surely must've fallen or been shaken enough for a few heartbeats time. Everything could happen in an instant, or alternately nothing in a moment. Time didn't wait for you, simply had to flounder to meet up with its pace. 'Keep your balance, keep your focus!' She whispered to herself in her mind, determination flaring up with every attack, awareness heightened drastically a blood pumping in her veins, harder and harder until she could hear her own heartbeat pulsating in her ears.

The onyx she-beast wrinkled her nose slightly as her jowls curled back in a sadistic smile as she kept moving, savoring the taste of fresh blood on her tongue - not that of a doe, or of any animal of prey, but the precious lifeblood of a wolf, a fellow predator as well as one of her own pack. Turning yet another few degrees, her auditories twisted to listen for the wolf, wind violently lashing her fur around, leaving it in no particular pattern. A corner of her mind had brought up the absently tracked fighting style of her opponent. Tundra's charges and attacks were very much as her own, making it all the harder for her to counter her with moves likened to them. She subconsciously searched her thoughts for what she herself would do to attack, knowing she would charge before the other could notice her. Shaking her analyzing mind to rest before she could get carried away, she focused completely on the task before her. Finally with another twist, she saw the alabaster mistress charging for her, evidently sprinting towards her shoulder. She didn't care to face her head on, as that would only be more harmful and make it all the more difficult to defend herself.

Instead of turning to face her attacker, Ariste shifted and stiffened her joints, tensing her muscles. Planting her paws firmly, she crouched slightly for a better grip, claws sinking in. Her ears pinned to her crown protectively, tail ducking in between her hind legs for shelter against slashing fangs. She didn't move, waiting for the right moment to make her move, so as not to alarm the other. When Tundra was mere steps away from her, the Warrior crouched down, lowering her obsidian frame nearer to the earth of the Hunting Moor, but not fully. As she did so, she whipped her head around, pushing her shoulder towards the other, but since she was lower to the ground she would be pushing against her fore-legs, knock her over or unbalance her. Swinging her rump around, she semi-faced the other now, neck stretching towards the pale vix's jaw and neck. If successful,  she would rotate her whole body towards Tundra and leap, using her leverage and her closeness to try to jump and pin Tundra down by the throat. Baring her scarlet fangs aggressively, she chuffed at the opposing warrior, breathing heavier. Her ruff was raised, partially to provide a further barrier to the tender flesh beneath the fluff, partially to threaten and intimidate the one she sparred against in an attempt to cause her to lose her focus. She snarled, the vicious sound tearing from her throat and ripping the semi-silence from the air as golden eyes locked onto their target.