Well, this is no fun. I keep my jaws snapping in his direction for a moment, frustrated at the lack of...movement really. I am not one to take being pinned very well. I have all this energy stored inside my thin frame. And he wants to keep me pinned? This is no game, this is no fun!
He does seem amused though, his own face smug and almost arrogant, but amused. Well, that is better than when I tackle someone like my brother too hard. The last thing I need is a cry baby or someone who just plain sucks at wrestling. My snaps slow, my brindle touched face settling into a scowl. I am a naturally pretty thing, many say. A creature made for beauty and looks, a body of a female meant for speed. Yet, I feel as if I should have been built like the boy before me. Muscular, thick. Able to push my weight around. I snort in irritation, his words then coming to my ears of a grey hue, in contrast to my white, bleeding into brindle most dazzling to the eye.
I will admit now that I do not care for...tactics. Or, I have yet to care. I enjoy just going. Doing. Not thinking. I wiggle my frame, the dirt of the ground digging deep into the dark backside of my pelt. Roll? He wants me to roll? My mind simply does not see how I could have fixed my positioning to do a roll. My blue eyes remained narrowed, staring directly into his with intensity as I remain wordless, only rumbling with a growl.
My ears pull back when he mentions my spirit and talent. My face wrinkles, determined only to get out for the moment. Maybe, at this moment when he speaks about someone teaching me, I can get the hell out from under him. I do a very sudden twist of my body, my shoulder going up towards him as I put all my strength into this moment. If I get free, I will quickly stand and face him with a slashing tail, and if I do not...well, I will still say what I have to say.
"I am too wild to train," I say with intensity. Well, I know that anyone who has tried to train me gave up pretty damn fast. Now, once I am out from under him, I can plan my next attack...