Hunting the Rancor (Jade)

[Kyramur Null]

For most people, the reaction to being trapped in a submission was to try and pull their way free.

Though still with limited vision, Kyr knew how to escape an armlock.

He fell forwards onto her, his sheer weight forcing a breaking of the hold.

Here was where she would truly be in danger if she did not escape. Kyr, as a child, had been well trained in submission grappling and ground fighting. That, along with his size and strength, would make victory nearly impossible unless she found some advantage.

Growling from deep in his chest, he began to try and rise up to his knees-from there, with her still on the ground, he could begin raining down blows, flesh and bone giving way under his fists.

[Jade Rancorfang]

OOC: Sorry for the delay, work is a b*tch.

IC:


The ground rose to meet her and she tasted a mouthful of blood. Coughing it on his face, she tried to free herself from his enormous bulk. The dirt beneath her trapped her, his knees hugged her hips as he rose above her. In that moment, her brain shut down and something primal took control. She was not Jade anymore, she was a trapped animal. And had to get out.
Her hands trashed around, looking for something, anything, to defend herself. Stones, sticks, dirt, everything went flying to his face as she scratched him anywhere she managed to reach. Finally, her left hand found his groin and squeezed as hard as she could. That managed to losen his hold enough to allow her to crawl away.

Jade woke up sitting against a tree, near the fallen rancor. Her clothes were covered in mud and torn, her hair tangled and full of debris. Then, she touched her face, feeling the renewed bruises, and saw Kyr holding his damged manhood. That made ger understand what happened.

-You hit me when we met for the first time. I decided to give you a second chance, and you did it again. If there is a third time, that will be the day one of us dies.

Her voice was cold, her stare burning with controled anger. One of her hands gripped one of her knifes, forgotten until then. Her posture spoke of pride and rightful retribution. She was on the brink of snaping, and it was clear that her threats weren't in vain.

[Kyramur Null]

With a thud, Kyr sat down backwards, holding himself in pain.

With a laugh, he nodded. "I accept that." He said it fiercely, with the pride of a warrior recognising a worthy opponent.

He coughed, then spat out a glob of blood onto the ground.

"I believe we both require medical attention." He got his small medpack from his belt and tossed her a small bacta patch for her chest.

"Once that is done, we should retreat to our camp. The predators will smell blood."