i'll make a man out of you // open, training

[Nayru]

[color=#6b7e99]✦ ✦ ✦

Oh... she was late.

She probably made her appearance far before the fighting had began, stationed off to the side just in case. She had been gathering herbs for her already overflowing supply though, still of the mindset that the more she had, the more prepared she was. At least she could afford to keep a fully stocked set in that backpack of hers- that made attending things like this and offering medical help so much easier. [b][color=#6b7e99]"I have... things," She announced quietly, mentally hitting herself for the vague nature of her statement. Of course she had things! Why couldn't she just had said herbs? Too embarrassed to clarify, she situated herself away from the fighting, watching with an unreadable expression.

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[Morgan]

Morgan lost focus for a moment when it noticed Nayru, turning toward her instead of facing its foe. Smiling, it began, "Hi Nayr-" before suddenly feeling some force smack into its belly. The blow nearly winded the samoyed, who tried jumping to follow the impact and lessen the damage.

Wondering why the feline would throw himself facefirst into snow like that, Morgan put its paws together. Since it was still in the air, it aimed to close the ring of snow in on Vigenere and freeze it into ice to immobilize him. If successful, the canine would hopefully land with some much-needed breathing room.

[▷killian◁]

Killian's ears would fold back at the roar, his tail would've tucked between his legs if it wasn't a stump. He tried his best to take up a stance that would allow him some sort of advantage, eyes flicking around to find a weakness of Zima's.

He tensed up as the bear charged at him and barely moved before the bear's jaws clamped down on his shoulders. The world was suddenly a huge blur and Killian couldn't hold back the scream-like noise that escaped him. He whimpered and yelped, thrashing his legs around and trying to twist around to bite whatever part of Zimavich he could reach.

"SPEECH"

▼o・ェ・o▼

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[Morgan]

Morgan smiled as it regained its footing, stepping over to the trapped feline and melting its mask away. It leaned in close and playfully bumped its big cold nose against his own. "Good fight," it whispered, inching back far enough to unfreeze him safely. It reformed its mask next, its smile hidden once again beneath it.

The samoyed's ears perked up at its fellow canine's screams. Remaining a distance away, it gathered its water again as it growled. Zimavich was already going far harder than anyone else had; the dog worried that things could go too far if the pair was left alone. Should the polar bear attempt a lethal attack, it was poised to retaliate and free its ally.

[IVAN Z. BRAGINSKY]

Zimavich recognized the sound of begging and some deep seeded part of him relished in it. He squeezed his jaws a little, pretending. He could snap Killian’s bones right now. He could, but Killian wasn’t an enemy...
Snapping. Pleasure? No. Companion. The polar bear promptly released the dog like a ragdoll and looked down at him, poking the bite area with his nose.

[beck.]

    The last few years of his life were spent in back-street alleys and his own little forest sanctuary, stealing food when he could, and at his lowest, commonly scrounging through discarded leftovers for anything to drive away the hunger. And all his competition did, too. He knew fighting like the back of his scarred hand, indents and scrapes standing out on his pallid knuckles as if every scrap they were from were being honored on a bony pedestal. Of course, mud and fur now hid them from sight, a drawback to adopting a feline disguise. But whether or not his scars were on display, it should have been obvious that Beck was from a rough-and-tumble background: he was quick on his feet and even quicker to bite at the smallest threat. A philosophy of fight or die was molded, even if he ended up losing to an unfair game in the final hours.

    In order for his project of a clan to thrive, they needed to know how to defend themselves as violently and as ruthlessly as he did, right? It should have been considerably easier for those with muscle or bulk to fall back on, unlike their own scrawny commander. The only issue was a lack of experience, or at least he assumed. So a training session was the way to go to shape them up into lean, mean fighting-machines.

      And, boy, was he getting a kick out of it, too. Perched up in an overhanging tree, Beck was a hidden spectator, apparition unseen and lurking as he watched the fighting unfold. A true animal fight night, like the ones he occasionally watched when there was nothing better on whatever television he was borrowing for the night. Except this time, powers had a play in it as well. Or at least, Morgan's powers did. Shrill giggles sounded from the wilting branches at Vigenere's frozen situation and Killian's distress, the poltergeist materializing back into view with his paws hugging his belly in both laughter and the resulting pain. "Y'all need to fight more --" He gasped for air he didn't entirely need, his squeaky giggle continuing even after he sucked in a rasping inhale. "-- often, that was fun!" Beck gave a punctured wheeze, settling down from his outburst with a crooked smile pulling up the unscathed corner of his lips. Leaning away from his branch and creeping forward to gain a better view of those present, the mangy feline drawled out as if to dare anyone else into another brawl, "Who's up for round two?" If only he could eat popcorn, then it would be perfect.

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