as written by Script and Lialore
Nieve did not smile as Cass joined her in the ring, but she nodded her head in respectful acknowledgement. She had walked to the far side of the ring while Cass was making her way through the crowd, and now she faced the other woman in cold silence. Her expression was clear - the time for words had passed. Now actions would prove what kind of woman she was. What kind they both were.
Cass was not as poised as the older she wolf who stood before her. Her position kept shifting, eyes wandering, remaining in the centre of the space rather than edging out; she had no idea what she was doing. She had more weight behind her, but that meant nothing if she didn’t know how to use it.
Cass wasn’t sure if there was a genuine hush or if her mind was pushing away the noise as she tried to focus. A nervous smile replied to Nieve’s nod, and then her expression grew stony in concentration.
Everything was coiled, ready to spring. Ready to dart away, to dodge, to run, for that was what she knew. In this way, her teeth felt annoyingly blunt, nails too short, muscles weak.
She began to close the space between them in a way that, to others, could seem terribly reckless. A stride that was barely wary - too intent on seeming confident.
Nieve stepped forwards to meet her without hesitation. The white-haired woman moved with almost uncanny speed, bringing her left leg up in a swift and high kick that slammed forcefully into Cass' ribcage. Her foot came down as quickly as it had risen and she stepped into a right-handed swing for Cass' face.
Cass tried not to fold in her winded state, the pure shock mixed with fear of what was to follow helped with that some.
And then a fist was rushing to meet her.
A desperate, clumsy grab sought to push it off-course, but the momentum was likely too developed to alter its path much. Her hands tried to close on the arm, to get a grip and to twist downwards and backwards with a ferocious force she thought would out-power her.
Moving with Cass' grip, Nieve allowed the other woman to push her fist down only to plant her foot into a shoulder barge using the momentum, forcing her opponent back. The ferocious assault didn't let up, however, and Nieve continued to press the offensive with a flurry of strikes aimed for Cass' face and torso.
The crowd were just as relentless, as Cass' back pressed into their circle, she was heartily shoved back into the fray. Her defensiveness continued. And as she grew more accustomed to getting hit, she got better at escaping the blows. But still, they came, and she continued to dance. It wasn't until a paticularly direct hit that had her tasting blood that the game really picked up.
Her momentary anger challenged true experience to some avail - the smallest of successes were a personal triumph.
Nieve seemed content to batter away at Cass' defensive stance until it buckled under the weight of her onslaught, confident that she could outlast her. But the sudden shift in her opponent's strategy caught her off guard. Nieve had been focusing almost everything on the offense, so when Cass struck back, the blow landed solidly and jerked her head to the side.
She stepped backwards away from Cass' offensive, spitting to the side and rolling her jaw as she brought her arms up to fend her off. If she was impressed by Cass' capacity to weather so many strikes and still have the strength to push back, it didn't show. Her expression remained that of a calculating predator, watching for the right moment to lash out.
It came in the form of a ducked swing, dropping down to allow Cass' fist to pass over her head instead of deflecting the strike. In the same movement, she launched herself forwards with a growl, bodily tackling the other woman to the floor.
Cass had pranced back cautiously, sure that there was a catch to her major hit.
And there it was.
Her head hit the ground with a satisfying smack but the swimming of her vision wasn't enought to stop her clawing at Nieve, animalistic snarls excaping as she tried to shift her. Cass beat and pushed at her opponent's body, trying to relieve her hands enough to go for her neck.
The two wrestled for dominance on the floor, neither landing a solid strike as Cass just barely kept Nieve at bay. Seemingly relenting the assault, she rolled to the side and to her feet in a smooth motion.
Cass remained; back to the floor, knees propped up, arms splayed, chest heaving from tireness. Only then did the crowd return to her, and her vision come back into proper focus. Her whole head rang from the fall. She didn't try to move just yet.
She watched Nieve from her spot, unsure as to whether that was it or not. She seemed off guard. And so, after a few seconds of still, Cass sat up, ribs and skull complaining in particular.
It was too late to react by the time she understood what was happening.
That hadn't been it.
Nieve's knee collided with her jaw as she'd raised her head to get to her feet, it snapped closed, luckily only catching the sides of her tongue and snapped her head backwards painfully. She fell back onto one elbow which had been scraped raw already. Her torso twisted, turning her face-forward to the ground as her hand slammed against the floor to prop her up along with her elbow.
She tried to stand. Everything seemed to fade again.
Nieve moved in swiftly, dropping down behind Cass and wrapping an arm firmly around her neck. She held her there for a long moment before releasing her and stepping back. It was done.
When Cass finally moved it was only to push herself back and onto her backside with another painful bump and to watch - with that same odd thoughtfulness as before - as a drop of blood slid from her bottom lip and onto the cellar floor between her legs.
She blinked dumbly.
The crowd bayed loudly, cheering Nieve's victory, but she failed to acknowledge them. Instead she stepped forwards and offered Cass her hand.
"You fought well for one without training," she stated, "But let this be a lesson. Complacency, the expectance of mercy, will serve only to be your end."
Cass wasn't exactly hearing what the woman said, but from what she could make of her expression and tone; she took it as condolence. She would have nodded in appreciation if she didn't think it would hurt so much.
Her eyes then settled on the hand that had hurt her only moments ago. And then she took it.
Nieve pulled Cass to her feet, nodded to her once more, and then turned to walk back into the crowd. The pack's cheers quickly merged back into conversation in the interlude before the next fight took place. As she stepped through the throng, her eyes flicked across the edge of the room, noting that Snow had moved from his place.
Her thoughts didn't linger on him long before she took a seat on a crate to wait for the next bout.
Cass lingered, dazed in the ring until someone shouted at her to move. She started, twisting an awkward circle as she tried to get her bearings then weaved off in the vague direction of Hubert.
She'd done it.
