Owner	Pose
Ares	Early morning alone within the confines of nature the two warriors had been practicing since the sun rose. The small clearing in that copse of trees had been trod for days between the two, a small patch of hardened ground had been trampled between them, the dirt packed by their bare feet and soaked with their sweat from such great effort.     At first when they had set against each other dew had been on the leaves and the trees, it had been along each curved blade of grass, and along the small curved tops of the mushrooms. Only its wispy remnants now clung to them, their clothes soaked through with sweat and their forms faring little better. His brow gleams with a sheen from that exertion, and assuredly she is little different from him. Today had been techniques, the learning and execution of. Small moments where he shares what he knows, then they execute at a slow speed, and then burst to full speed and lock it down. Then they switch positions with him being her uke, and they practice... and practice, until she has it down.     Right now they are standing close together, locked in a clench, leaning forwards. His strong form clad only in a white jersey cloth pair of shorts, and his arms interlaced with hers. Their heads are next to each other, both looking down, their breath heavy as he murmurs, "Are you ready? Full speed this time."     A moment of delay, holding for some symbol of acceptance and then he nods and hunkers into that clench. Then she'll feel the short pop of his hand against her face, this close it's little more than a slap, though in a full on fight it would be a punch. It's there to distract as he presses in and snakes one arm around her throat from above, a side on headlock with her facing behind him.     "Hup," He begins to turn in a smooth gyre, holding onto her head as he brings it around, turning his arm like the face of a clock until they're back to back with him /pulling/ her off balance and forwards, holding her now upside down head over his shoulder, letting her look up at the sky. Then he abruptly drops down into horse stance as he /pulls/ on her head, just enough for there to be discomfort when he drops down with a short sharp, "TSSEIYA!" shouted and mimics pulling her head down over his shoulder to break the neck.     "Alright, got it?"
Vanya	There's wet and then there's flooded. The war god's sparring partner and student is a lot of animal crammed into a dense package and as their training has quickly shown that means she sweats - a lot. Rather than sweat through her one set of clothes the feral brawler has been practicing in a sports bra and matched bottom; simple and unrestrictive. The whole of her physique is soaked and slippery with perspiration and so far every break in fighting has also meant a chug from the water jug sitting by a nearby tree. Training as she is, Vanya's skin is by now covered in bits of dirt and mud from all the times she's been brought to the ground, and more than a little bruised.     Not that the wild-eyed woman has noticed in the slightest. Panting with an expectant verve in the clinch, her arms press against the war god's in a primal struggle as she asserts her side of the grapple and answers his question with a little suck of breath, preparing herself for the exchange to come. Her head bounces with the slap and the sudden shift that follows gets a mild, instinctive resistance. The cords of muscle in her neck stiffen to protect her throat, her chin tries to close down on the the godly arm, and her legs flail back to try to hook against Ares and regain her structure.     Bright, excited, and hungry yellow eyes stare back at him just before the were-woman is dropped.     "Tsa...!"     An instinctive kiai answers the god of war as Vanya tenses extra-hard, forming a solid armour of muscle around bones that feel too thick to be human against the warrior's shoulder. As the grapple is released, she smiles toothily and relaxes, draping instead of pulled against divine sinew.     "Oh I /like/ this one," she purrs.
Ares	Those brown eyes hold her yellow ones as he maintains that grip, but then he goes down to one knee and gently lets go of her chin, letting her regain her balance and her feet. Once she has control of herself he rises back to his feet, wiping a thick forearm over his brow and flashes what looks like a wry smile towards her. "Get the movement down, you can go from the clinch to the hyper-extension in less than two seconds."     He takes a few steps away from her towards that bottle she has squirreled away and he lifts it up, squirting some of the water into his mouth before he sends it flying her way. He'll wait til she has her own taste before he claps his hands to accept it being tossed back from her and puts it back out of the way.     The tall man rolls his broad shoulders, loosening up the joints as he twists his head one way and then the other, "Alright, now think of it, place the sequence of movements in your mind, let me know when you're ready."     At her word he'll take those last few steps towards her and put his arms on her shoulders, leaning forwards into the clench again as he makes ready, the side of his head against hers, the heat from their bodies staggeringly palpable as they lock up again, their breath mingling as he then tells her, "When you're ready, half-speed. Get the movement down."
Vanya	The predator in human skin comes up all smiles from the grapple, rolling her neck and shaking the excitement from her joints as she lets her trainer have first dibs on the water. Her raptor eyes watch him in her mingled way, blending the laser focus of a hawk waiting to strike with the casual ease of a beast around its kin; one predator in the presence of another.     A transparent third eyelid sweeps sideways to wipe the sweat from her unblinking gaze as her hand leaps out to catch the thrown jug. Tipping it up over her mouth, Vanya squirts, and squirts, and squirts... she's taking more than just a taste but at least there's still some left for later.     Gulping the cold prize down with a sigh of relief, the feral woman tosses the jug back and makes herself ready. Soaked in her own exertion, muscles hot, fatigued, but ready, and her more-than-human senses locked on a warrior she can't fell without a challenge, the predator of predators is in her element. She's happy to keep going all the way until her body collapses.          The were-woman's fangish canines brush against Ares' shoulder for just a moment as she settles into the clinch, prepares herself, then begins the sequence. A blow, then a shift, then a grab, then a twist to bring the god of war onto her shoulder. There's something electric in her eyes, her spirit dancing as she looks down upon his face and moves in to complete the hold and rob him of recourse. It's too much not to savour it longer than necessary and experiment just a tiny bit with the nuances of angles and posture. The combined weight sinks Vanya's bare feet into the damp earth beneath them and she smiles in a vibrant, open-hearted way before giving a little lift as a warning and then taking Ares down as her knee strikes the dirt.          "Yaa!"
Ares	As strong as an instructor as he is, he is an exceptional uke when it is needed. For as they clench together, he responds with the movements an opponent would make in such a situation. When she makes that slap to his face he'll reel back slightly, parroting the motion of an opponent caught off guard. Then when she snakes her arm around his neck she'll feel him tug to try and foul her grip. And as he's brought around he'll shift his weight from foot to foot. Not enough to effect an escape, but more to make her have to commit focus and effort to the technique.     And then when she drops to her knee he'll tense his shoulders, she'll be able to feel those firm muscles grow stiff against her own shoulder, and she'll see the small wince in his eye as he meets her gaze. His back foot slides over the dirt and toes splay to gain purchase.     And then the hold is released and he turns to the side, easing into a three point stance and then pushes himself to his feet. He'll offer her his hand to help her up if she wishes, drawing her to him so they can speak face to face. No longer is there a worry about closeness, or a fear of proximity. The days and days of training has weeded it out of them, so he speaks to her as they both share the same breath.     "Your kiyai in such a moment should be a building sound, to draw your focus, channel it, and then a second sound to signal the release of the energy." He rests his hands upon her shoulders and nods once, "Not just for focusing your strength, but it also signifies to your opponent the conscious decision you have made to strike, to cripple, or to kill. Effective when you withhold the final movement, and can damage morale."     He then slides his feet back slightly and gives her the nod for the next movement, "Full speed, try again. Drop to horse stance for greater stability." At that she'll feel his breath over the curve of her neck even as he locks up again.
Vanya	Vanya takes the warrior's offered forearm to pull herself up to him, giving him the full brunt of her weight to support as she rises - she knows he can take it. Her pale yellow eyes hang in their intense, unblinking way as she listens, her slightly pointed ears pricked at either side. The brush strokes of the animal kingdom are less subtle across the were-woman's features now that they've been shown in full. Not that she ever truly hid them.     She thinks for a moment and nods slowly. "Da, I think I've got it."          The shape-shifter leans forward and sinks into a fresh clinch that's tensed and tightly formed. Hair rises on the back of her neck as a brief stillness settles between them and a hot, faintly audible outpouring of air washes over the topless warrior just before the predator leaps into action. That one was on purpose.          This time the movements come fast and sudden as Vanya's muscles explode into action. She's still pulling the force of her opening slap but only at the last moment before slipping her arm over Ares' shoulder and quickly spinning the god around. With speed comes a little sloppiness - the were-woman is still controlled but try as she might they are new movements. Still they're close enough to be effective and this time as she holds the triumphant grip and steps assertively into the warrior's back, there's only a moment of locked intensity as Vanya looks down with pure focus and intent. The conscious decision to drop was made before this grapple even started.          "ooO-RA!" The Russian's quads burst into prominence as she comes to a sudden stop in a right-angle horse stance with the combined weight of two predators borne upon them. It's not nearly as gentle a ride down as the first time. Vanya's trusting her partner's durability to make up for any excitement. A little hard sparring never hurt anyone, right?
Ares	Again they move through that rhythm and that motion, the draw together, the tightening of grips. She might notice a hint of goosebumps across the warm flesh of his chest as her breath brushes past. Then he can /feel/ when she shifts to the seriousness of the moment, their bodies tensing abruptly. That slap comes in and it smacks his head slightly to the side, perhaps in part fouling that grip. Then she's making the turn and holding... then the drop as she exhales sharply.     The ride down is a hard jounce that causes him to wince with the bounce. She'll feel his arm come up partially as he adjusts to the side a little, but then nods against her resistance as she releases him.     Again he turns around and comes face to face with the woman, he leans in and touches his brow against hers, as if trying to get this through to her. "Better, not perfect. Focus, one more time, you'll have it." He lifts his hands to /slap/ her shoulders hard as he gives her a nod then touches a hand under her chin, lifting her head up slightly as he steps back. "Louder, with a more shrill sound. You sounded like a grunt. Could have been just heavy exertion. You want them to /know/ you decided to kill them, to take their life, to end this one over your shoulder and you are going to make the others scurry from you." He cups the back of her neck roughly and tells her, "Seeeeiyaaaaah," Whispered to her, "Keeiaaaai." His eyebrows lift as he's looking into those golden eyes of hers, as if to see that she gets it, then he gives a nod.     "One more time. Harder, stronger. Do not be afraid."     Those strong arms slip back over her shoulders in the clench, a small slap is given to the side of her neck to encourage her. "Don't tell me when, just go."
Vanya	The fleshy slap echoes through their dirt clearing and Vanya smiles a little at the small sting as blood rushes in and the landing spots begin to fade red. She lets herself be manipulated with just a hint of resistance from a body that's not quite ready to wind back down and holds her unblinking gaze on the divine instructor, on her one equal, on the man she's been eating a frightening amount of food from lately. With great exertion comes great appetite.          "I've never understood the point of all this 'kiai' focus," Vanya admits. "But if you say so..." Tucking her head beside his, there's a feeling of something shifting within the were-woman's neck as she seizes the clinch and her body adjusts to something just slightly different. "This time I'll do it my way," she says with the hint of a growl.     The fangs in her mouth enlarge and suddenly there's a palm strike rushing towards the towering man's face. A sinewy arm follows quickly behind and whips the god around by his neck. It's the same motions as before in the same speed but with an unbridled intensity, a sharp and fluid 90% that doesn't pause as the were-woman meets his back. As soon as she feels his structure stolen, gravity takes over and the clearing's calm is shattered by a primal roar that builds in a blood-chilling crescendo until it peeks just as Vanya's arm clenches and slams the war god's neck against the rock of her shoulder. This kiai had tiger blood.          Looking down with eyes that have shifted from raptor yellow back towards golden, the were-woman takes only a moment to process that she hasn't just killed her mentor before releasing her hold and helping to nudge him up with a push from the same shoulder.
Ares	Full speed, full power, and she executed it perfectly. The palm heel connected and bloodied his lip as he drew back, then she made the turn, the smooth twist and held, her arm clenched over his neck. And then with barely a hesitation she takes him down with that heavy tree-shaking shriek that signals to all that she dares this, that she has chosen this moment to defeat her opponent...     And those golden eyes find his, though at first closed, when he opens them his lip twists into a half-smirk. He releases and twists once freed, rising up and he rests a hand on her shoulder, "Exceptional." Approval is given from him sparingly, but when it is earned... she shall hear it. Another smack is given to her arm as he rubs at the back of his neck, walking away from her. His back is a shiny gleam of exertion, the muscles so perfectly formed stand out as he moves away, the lines and creases down his back almost a perfect depiction of the human form.     It's to the water bottle he goes and he takes another swallow, then tosses it her way. "Alright, take five." He'll sit down at the base of that tree, one leg drawn up even though the fabric clings to his thighs and his waist, leaving little to the imagination. But to be fair, at this point they are most likely beyond modesty.     "How did that feel to you?"
Vanya	Vanya swells with pride as she rises second and her bestial features both recede and expand, shifting to something more natural. Her vocal cords soften but claws and more animalistically pointed features sprout from the edges of her body as a faint pattern of black stripes forms in her black hair. The raptor yellow and tiger orange depart from her eyes, leaving a dark brown that's only faintly touched by a lightened ring at its core. Sprouting from her lower back, a small patch of fur provides fertile soil for a slender and fully-formed tail.     Stalking over with an unhurried sway, one Adonis follows the other to tree as Vanya's more primal figure joins Ares' on the ground. She's not a sculpture - she's a piece of living art, most alive in motion when her body is roused in effortless motion. Panting openly as she takes her own drink of water, the steaming were-woman drinks a short helping with gusto that runs a trickle down her chin before she finishes. Side by side, she offers it back.     "Fluid. Powerful. I could feel the leverage," she answers, trying as much as her instinctive mind can to offer an analysis. The pointy, self-satisfied smile hanging quietly on her face answers what else it felt like.
Ares	Affectionately he reaches over and scritches the thick hair near the nape of her neck, just a slow digging in of fingernails and then a small pat as he conveys his approval with a smile. There's an ease to them, no token nods made towards the laws and manners of man. It is simply two predators taking a moment of respite between them, enjoying the early sun as the day wends its way towards noon, even as a small beadlet of sweat from his shoulder traces its way along the powerful curve of his arm, to touch her own, joining with that own faint sheen upon her body. They're side by side, him perhaps leaning on her slightly when she settles down and allowing her to lean on him in turn.     Shifting his hips slightly so he can raise the other leg and lower the first, he glances at her sidelong, "Can you think of a scenario where you would use it in a fight?" He looks at her curiously, even as he reaches over to take the water back from her, lifting it up and taking another swallow. He does pour some into his hand and tosses it over his scalp, enjoying the coolness of that sensation.     "And have you thought of a variation?"
Vanya	Vanya's head tips back as she enjoys the simple pleasure of the sensation and rests half-and-half against the trees of wood and sinew beside her. The were-woman's a hedonist after all. Her eyes drift shut as she continues catching her breath, soon breathing deeply but calmly, and giving the warrior an implicit license to pet some more.     "That hold would be easy to move into with a tentacle or if I can get behind someone another way. It might be a good way to block a bullet too," she considers idly as her faintly-striped nose twitches. In her hybrid form, the were-woman's almost-stripes could pass for shallow tattoos.
Ares	"We're almost out of water," He glances at her sidelong, "Do you want to call it for today? Or come back out later on? Or try and put what you learned to the test in a sparring session?" He offers her that decision as he reaches over and brushes his hand down along the line of her thigh, that faint fur subtly more noticeable as he begins to lightly rub at those well worn muscles, easing his fingers down along the long lines of her and then easing her to the side slightly so she can rest her leg in his lap if she wishes while his fingers casually pet and squeeze as if moving that tension down towards her foot.     "That technique also carries something of a stigma to it. It can be considered insulting to end a match with it." His tense fingertips press deep into the flesh and then slowly along the inside and outside of her thigh, hands working in tandem. "Though it does assert your dominance."
Vanya	Vanya smiles toothily and drapes herself across the warrior's lap, turning from the tree and draping her back across the grass with her arms tucked behind her head. Ares is left with both legs across him and her hardened muscles resist even a light press as their blood-engorged vigour leaves them little room to move.     "Mmm... you don't have to tell me twice. I might try to catch you in that one day - just for fun," the were-woman replies playfully. "But not today. A spar sounds nice but I'm running out of fuel." Curling her tail up around her legs, Vanya's newest limb brushes its fur against the war god's wet arm. Having said that, she's making no motion at all to leave.
Ares	"Mmhmm, you try that better get ready to run fast." His tone is light, amused as he continues to casually offer some pressure to make sure those bruises on her shins and thighs get a little more pressure to break up the blood. He then casually wipes at some of the leaves of grass on her legs and then settles back against the tree as well, letting her leave her feet there for now.     He does sort of curiously lift her tail a bit, letting it curl around his wrist should she be able to do so. John's brow furrows as he smirks for a moment at it, giving it a small pet before he looks sidelong towards her, "Then go on, head back and get yourself something to eat, we'll continue tomorrow." But he makes no effort to get up himself, nor to make her do so.
Vanya	Besides all the mingled sweat, Ares might have a little mud on his shorts now. Not that Vanya's shown a care for her need to bathe yet. That can happen later. Her tail swishes and lightly wraps then unwraps itself from the warrior, brushing him with soft fur before dropping back near the ground.     "Okay," she replies simply... and doesn't move. The feral brawler stays right where she is, hands tucked behind her head, stretched out across the grass and the lap of a war god, and her eyes shut. Rhythmically, the end of her tail pats itself against the grass.
Ares	Ah, that mood. The I'm here and I'm at peace and I don't even worry about you... but my tail is going a mile a minute and don't you dare try to move me or else, mood. He's seen that before in other creatures of the feline persuasion and he smirks sidelong at her. "Okay," He repeats, perhaps mocking her tone of voice subtly. But then he /pushes/ her legs off of him as he rolls over onto his side. And if that doesn't trigger the kitty growl and attack, then assuredly it will when he rolls over onto her, his legs straddling her hips as he presses his hands into her shoulders and holds her down.     One eyebrow quirks and he growls low, leaning closer as he looks into her eyes. It's in her eyes often, when they change, that's when he knows that the danger is there flirting close to the surface. "I gave you an order, girl."
Vanya	Vanya grumbles when she's forcibly moved, then gives a mrowling growl a moment later as she's mounted. The were-woman's countenance changes as quickly as the war god can get on top of her and more bestial features begin to spread across her face. Her eyes narrow in warning as they bleed into a tiger orange. That was the wrong thing to say.     Tiny spears begin to stab into the warrior's hands where he's gripping as pauldrons of pointed quills sprout from Vanya's shoulders and her elbows dig into the dirt, willing enough muscles to sit up with or without the deity's added weight.     "And your point is...?" she growls back.
Ares	There's a wry smirk that comes from the man as he stays there for a moment and she starts to sit up, but the spines don't give him too much trouble until eventually he just baps her across the cheek before coupling that with a small scritch along the side of her neck, the carrot and stick, or stick and carrot? One or the other. But then he rises off of her and stands above for a moment, offering her his hand. And should she take it or not, his next moment is spent turning and starting to walk back towards the house. "My point is, behave yourself or no lunch."
Vanya	Vanya glares a little in indignation at the mingled treatment but as she's released and offered a hand, the were-woman's temper cools at least enough to smirk as the quills recede and she accepts the offered help up.     As she does, Ares might realize she can grow them on her palm too. He doesn't get to have that without a little bleeding.     "Behave?" the were-woman asks with a laugh as if she hadn't just stabbed the man with the equivalent of a meat skewer. After a moment to make her point she lets him go and her last quills disappear from sight again. Tucking in behind the war god to follow him from their clearing, one of Vanya's arms stretches itself into a tentacle just long enough to snatch their water jug and sling it over her shoulder.     "No promises."