Vilkas grunted as his left knee hit the ground. He looked up at the grinning orc woman in begrudging respect. It wasn't often someone could knock him down. She truly was impressive.
Still grinning, Lashur sheathed her axe and offered a hand to Vilkas.
"Well done," Vilkas praised as he took Lashur's hand and let her help him regain his feet, his tone warmer. "What did you say your name was again?"
"Lashur. Lashur Urot."
"Well Lashur, it looks like you're one of us now. But don't get ahead of yourself," Vilkas said, his eyes and tone taking on a slightly teasing glint. "You're still a whelp."
Lashur snorted.
"Of course," she drawled. "Just a whelp who put you on your knees."
Vilkas began to scowl.
"Don't worry," Lashur continued, her tone becoming mischievous. "I won't tell anyone how good you looked down there."
whumptober 3: forced to their knees