ORIGIN

Pride picked his way across the coliseum floor. His opponent, or rather the director of his familiar's opponent, was a stranger to him and he greeted him with a dip of his head. "That would be me--and you are Mocha?" he asked, head tipping to one side. "It is nice to meet you. My familiar-" and here he turned as Mischief shot past him: a feisty little Arctic Hair with chalcedony gemstone forming small spikes above one eye. "...She wished to battle. She will not, I hope, try to draw blood," he added, eyeing the almost-legless lizard by Mocha's side somewhat doubtfully.

He had no idea if the little creatures were venomous. Probably not, as it wasn't an actual snake, but he couldn't be sure. He was worried, but in his mind, Mischief was living up to her name: eager, dismissing his concerns, and raring to do battle.

She rushed forward and hopped up and down midway between he and Mocha, ready to fight.

Pride was halfway through wondering just what Mocha was (admittedly, distracted) when the seemingly slow-moving lizard abruptly launched into motion. Even Mischief, quick as she was, was taken off-guard; jaws closed around her flank and a squeal of frightened surprise rang through the forum's arena.

Use your hind legs! Pride thought at her. He'd seen her playing, before, kicking viciously and rapidly; maybe she could free herself that way.

He could feel, though, that despite the admirable strength and quickness of the strike, the little lizard wasn't actively trying to cause harm. And be careful, he added, cautioning her to not cause real harm.

It was a good thing he'd warned her; her strong kicks came with sharp claws, and he felt her turn them away just in time. The result was a potential battering, but without the potential cuts that might've otherwise come with it.

The compliment came as a surprise, and Pride blinked up, concentration broken for the moment. "Ahh--thank you?" he half-asked, amused, but his tone was still quite polite. He hesitated, because he honestly wanted to ask what Mocha was but it seemed a rude way to phrase the question. "May I ask... what sort of creature you are? You are quite unique," he added, struggling to make it sound nicer. It wasn't intended to be mean--he was simply curious. Fascinated, even.

The distraction took its toll, and he'd have sworn he felt Mischief swear at him along the link, although the hare was technically incapable of it. She was flipped and tumbled around, scrabbling to catch her balance, and Pride suppressed a laugh as he apologized to her through that link. My apologies--try to get up. Get some distance! Maybe flip it over, too, he suggested.

A shark dog?? The thought was laced with question marks, ringing in Pride's mind, hanging there unresolved and baffling as the little fight continued. He eyed the rows of tiny, sharp teeth, blinking--not intimidated, no. Mocha seemed quite friendly. But they were... unexpected? In such a soft- and somewhat pudgy-looking creature. Young, perhaps. Well--that was a given, but-

Oh- Mischief was leaping for the Lesser Snake like a wrestler, jumping high to come down feet-first for it.

She seemed to be having fun, at least, eyes gleaming despite the light battering she'd already taken.

Pride was about to speak, wondering if he were reading a vague discomfort correctly, or if the shark-dog were simply distracted by the battle--when the battle distracted him, too.

His pale eyes shot to the Lesser Snake and he squinted, concerned. "Is your... creature, okay?" He couldn't quite tell if it were snake or lizard; but it seemed to have taken a bit of a battering. Don't harm it, he warned Mischief.

The hare, about to launch into a series of kicks, instead pulled back. He felt a sort of sourness along the link, like she wanted to press her advantage, but she also seemed to recognize what he was telling her: that she wasn't to harm the reptile, and that it wasn't looking very good.

She turned her back half-to it instead, scuffing in quick rabbit-like fashion in the dust on the stage, kicking it back toward Nori. Maybe she was trying to use strategy instead of brute force, blinding the thing briefly--Pride wasn't sure. But he was grateful she didn't actually try to cause it further harm.

Either way, it didn't seem to do much; the stage was less sandy than the floor of the Forum, and all the hare managed was a vague puff of dust.