"Kya!" Ryan swung his wooden practice sword, seeking for a hole in Katherine's defenses. The tiger-totem girl was about his age, a bit shorter than him but faster and much more agile. She had elected to train with the staff instead of the sword, and she was learning quickly, becoming quite good at blocking his strikes and at least somewhat proficient at returning the blows. They were both still learning, but the blue-haired youth tended to find himself receiving more bruises than his feline partner when they sparred. And of course his showed more readily, to his great embarrassment, as he lacked her concealing coat of thick, red-orange fur.

Wood clacked against wood loudly as Katherine caught his blow. She took half a step back, then moved quickly sideways and swung, trying to get around his guard. He stumbled backwards trying to evade, but raised his sword a bit too quickly. She lowered her hand at the last moment and smacked him on the thigh with her staff. He jumped back, biting his lip to avoid crying out in pain, and just barely dodged a follow-up swing towards his shoulder.

Angered by the pain in his leg, he struck back, slicing his sword at her most vulnerable point: her hand, wrapped around the long wooden shaft. Wood struck fingers with a satisfying crack, followed immediately by a hiss and a pained snarl. It was rather poor sportsmanship, to strike at her hand like that, but against a faster opponent he needed every advantage he could manufacture. He pressed his advantage, lowering his sword slightly and thrusting forward instead of slashing. She tried to swing downward to block it, but that only succeeded in diverting the tip of his sword from her sternum to her belly. He got in a good, solid hit, staggering her back a step and leaving her winded for a moment.

The youth pressed his advantage, raising his blade and feinting a high slash towards the side of Katherine's head. She moved quickly, bringing up her staff to block, but the blow was simply a distraction. He lashed out with his foot, catching her right ankle from the outside and pushing it leftwards, across her body. The feline totems may be renowned for their superior balance, but there's only so much of an advantage that such a gift can confer to a biped. When his sword met her staff, she stumbled backwards, dropping instinctively to a three-point crouch to try to regain her balance, right foot forward, her left stretched far back, and her right hand on the ground. It would only take a moment, but that was all the time that Ryan needed. Katherine's right hand was off her staff.

He stepped forward quickly and cracked his sword hard against her right arm just below the shoulder, then slapped the side of her head with the flat of his blade. He wasn't going to use the edge against her head; even with a wooden sword, that could truly hurt her. As cruel as she could be to him at times, he refused to sink to her level. But that didn't mean he didn't intend to win. The blow dazed her for a moment, long enough for him to get in another kick, this time to her stomach. She collapsed on the ground, gasping and panting, and Ryan stood over her, holding the tip of his sword against the back of her neck. "Yield?"

He expected an affirmative response, of course, but instead there came a hiss and a growl from the tigress. She ducked her head and turned to look up at him, bringing her staff up in a backhanded swing that impacted directly between his legs. He collapsed to the ground with a boyish yelp of pain, but in his own mind he heard a fierce roar of rage. Katherine stood over him, hips wiggling and tail swishing as she surveyed her "kill" victoriously.

STAND

It was like a voice, almost a physical, audible sound, in the space between one beat of Ryan's heart and the next. But more than a voice, it was a thought, an idea, a need. He groaned softly and gritted his teeth, steeling himself against the pain, and placed the tip of his sword in the ground, then quickly pushed downward, using the weapon to bring himself to a crouch.

Katherine noticed and stepped back, bringing her staff up and dropping into a combat stance. "Want morrre, little Solitarrry?" she taunted.

Ryan straightened up and got into his own stance, raising his sword defensively. But then Karl was there, between them. "That's enough," the wolf-totem growled. "Stand down, both of you." Ryan lowered his sword gratefully; Katherine hissed and planted the butt of her staff hard against the ground. "Katherine, a move like that could save your life in a real fight, but this was not a real fight."

The tigress spat on the ground at Ryan's feet. "He asked me to yield," she snarled. "I will neverrr yield to a Solitarrry!"

"I'm not-" Ryan began, but Karl gave him a stern look and he shut his mouth.

"Do you doubt the word of the shamans?" he growled, his fur rising slightly in the manner of an irritated lupine. Katherine backed off, shaking her head sullenly. "Good. As for you," he turned to Ryan, "that took a lot of guts, standing up like that, but what were you going to do next? Sometimes you need to know when to quit, boy."

Ryan hobbled away from the practice ring and sat down hard in the grass at the edge. "And what good will that do me in a real fight?" he asked.

The ranger chuckled softly. "Might get you taken prisoner instead of getting killed. And a prisoner can escape. Or you could just end up left for dead instead of someone making sure to finish the job. It could do any number of good things for you, really..."

Ryan nodded. "But I felt like I had to. I felt someth-"

The ranger clamped his hand down on Ryan's forearm and gave him a severe look. "Not here," he murmured in a voice that was urgent in tone, but so quiet as to barely reach his apprentice's ears. "Not now. Tell no one. We can discuss it tomorrow." The wolf fixed him with an intense, penetrating gaze. "No one, understood?"

Ryan nodded, but he felt confused. He wondered what had upset Karl so. The... thing... the voice, if it was a voice, felt like a part of him, as if he had truly touched his totem for the first time. If so, it was a joyous, sacred occasion. Why was his Master acting as if it was something shameful, or worse, something actually dangerous?

"I think you've both had enough sparring for one afternoon," the wolf said. "You're dismissed until tomorrow. You should both probably lay down for a while."