I'm beginning to feel like a Dungeon Dragon

soul bound to none | heart captured by none | warrior of nowhere | no children | loner

What in the world...? Jag heard a commotion, something tearing through the forest like a speed demon. She shifted her stance, tending her muscles just in case it wasn't a friendly something that came barreling towards her. Really, she had left Chicky and Glorall behind for a day of exploring, wanting to see the forest in winter again before the seasons changed. She thought she was in for a nice, relaxing day of wandering around the forest. Maybe catching a rabbit or two to fill her stomach for a change.

Wrong.

Nootau came bursting through the trees in front of her, looking terrified for his young life. She was immediately on guard, hackles raising and lips peeling back from her teeth for whatever was behind the teenager. She ignored his words, instead stepping around him and getting into a starting stance; paws braced apart, tail raised high as any alpha's, head low and fangs out. She growled, countering the lynx's yowl. Really? How did he get in bad with a lynx of all things? She was just glad it wasn't a cougar. She'd taken down the cats before, but she didn't feel like dealing with one at the moment.

The lynx growled, pacing, trying to draw her into following, leaving Nootau open. Not going to happen. Jag had played bodyguard before; knew all the tricks others used to separate the guard and their charge. When you went to follow them, they faked a move and dashed around -or sometimes over, if they could jump- you to get to their prize. There were rules to this kind of thing, if you wanted to lower the chances of whoever was behind you getting killed. One, never give your opponent you back. Two -more importantly- don't let even a hair of them get between you. If that happens, you could pretty much pronounce them dead.

So far it had only been a growling match, lupine snarls versus feline rumbles, but the moment the cat made a move, Jagger would be on it. She had come to think of the spunky boy as a sort of little brother; and therefor would kill anything that tried to eat him. Lynx lunged suddenly, and Jag met it, colliding in a mass of teeth and claws. They snapped at each other, trying to rip the other apart. Lynx was a bit smaller than her, but it was all muscle mass. They rolled, quick glints of sharp things, growls and snarls erupting from both their chests.

Both dealt injuries to the other, Jagger slashing its side and Lynx shredding the front of a leg. It was all over within minutes though, Jagger gaining the upper hand and closing her teeth around its throat, giving it a shake or two for good measure. The life drained away, the cat falling limp in her teeth as she stood over it. She let go, its blood coating her jaws and neck. She was cut all over, but she was victorious and Nootau was okay; that's all that mattered.

She turned to him now, quieting her growls. "What in the hell did you to piss it off?!" She demanded, more angry at him for putting himself in danger than having her fight it. After all, it was her choice. She could've let it him.

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