{Elira}
~**^**~
Fenric lunged first. He was fast and deliberate.
I dodged left, narrowly missing his strike. His strength was obvious; every movement was sharp and efficient.
He came again. I blocked him, twisted my body, and struck at his side. My blow connected, but barely made him flinch.
He grinned, low and taunting. "You hit like a cub."
That familiar spark of irritation flared, but I shoved it down. I wasn't here to prove strength through rage.
Fenric tried to grab me again, but this time I pivoted just as Lennon had taught me, slipping under his arm and driving my knee up into his midsection. He grunted and stumbled back.
Gasps rippled through, reaching my ears.
I didn't chase the advantage; I remembered one of Zenon's profound warnings about never losing my center, even when I'm winning.
