Smeared black ink [F'ur]

[rii]

A smug smile that had formed during the action was quickly wiped away when the arm seized around him. F'lix made a sound similar to a strangled yelp and tried to arc away from the impending doom of the stream. Noo, he didn't want to get wet. One leg slid back, arms were extended–he did manage to stall their fall for a brief moment, but it was all to no avail. Balance would not win out when it seemed F'ur was purposely falling back and going to take him along for the ride. Mental note to self: Quickly step away from the Fortian after daring to shove him.

Accepting the fate of the approaching water, F'lix pushed away from his losing ground of the boulder, latching onto the man as if the fall was a matter of life or death. One would have to wonder if he was afraid.. or couldn't swim. Neither really, the younger just didn't enjoy water as much as others. Especially cold water. Splash. If F'ur moved away, F'lix didn't notice, once the fall ended he was on his feet, waist deep in water and shoulders hunched and arms raised high so they didn't touch the stream. He wanted to scramble up the boulder, but it was out of his reach and he didn't want to move.

In retrospect, pushing F'ur into the water wasn't the smartest of ideas. Aside from getting dragged in himself. F'lix should have been more concerned about the art he had fussed over. In his defense, he had thickened the ink with sap so it wouldn't be easily washed out or bleed in with other liquids. And if the design did get a bit faded in parts, F'ur would just have to endure another day of carving to fix it.

F'lix turned, thoroughly drenched and looking oh-so-fit the part of an unhappy, wet cat. His scowling carried no effect in such a predicament (not the mention the ink smearing along his cheeks, and not that he was angry, not in the least, glaring is just want F'lix did)–this is why he took to wearing his leathers more often than not, being small and slender didn't help the intimidating factor. And, oh hyne, F'lix didn't know what was worse. The man running around half-dressed, or wearing a thin white shirt and soaked to the bone. Even the diluted blood on the sleeve added to the effect. F'lix eyes slitted, such a problem that, and now was the man.. angry.. or.. ? He hadn't said anything yet so F'lix had to wonder. Silence on F'ur's end never seemed to bode well in the past..

Regardless, just because F'ur seemed to have gained the upper hand.. and F'lix wouldn't be able to get close again without instant suspicion or retaliation.. he sliced his hand through the water, a quick motion to send a flying wave of water at F'ur. Yes, splashing a thoroughly wet person made perfect sense. Then, with the unappealing sensation of mud sucking at his feet, F'lix waded toward the shore. Best to flee before suffering any repercussions from his bold actions.

[Requiem]

He probably shouldn't have, but it was downright funny. F'lix couldn't have looked any more uncomfortable if he tried, all sodden and...well, hissy was the word that came to mind. As if he'd start spitting at any moment. It was just water...and in the warmer months, too. If he'd meant to dissuade F'ur's nickname for him, this was completely the wrong way to go about it. Although the water had turned the whiskers into mere ridiculous blotches of black that even now were running down the Bendenite's cheeks thickly, smearing over his neck as well. Like really, really poorly applied kohl after a rainstorm. "I didn't know you were that adverse to my artwork...though you can't really tell me you like this look better?" F'ur questioned snarkily, still snickering.

Which was when he got water in the face, resulting in an awkward splutter and a mild flail of the hands from the Fortian. His eyes narrowed. Playing games, huh? But it would be far too obvious if he was to engage right this moment, and there was the matter of the leather vest. Some leather did okay with water. This stuff was of higher quality, however, and he needed to stretch it while it dried to make sure it was still supple...something that wouldn't work too well if it baked on him. He hadn't exactly been planning on taking a swim.

He began unlacing it deftly, following F'lix out of the water. The smeared 'facepaint' reminded him that his foot was inked, and he probably should get it out of the water if it hadn't all been washed away already. He spread out the vest on the rock and plucked lightly at the loose white shirt clinging to him. Somewhat annoying, but at least it was cool. A sly glance was cast the Bendenite's way. Hrm. The kid was even thinner than he looked in the leathers. That was saying something, wasn't it?

"What's the matter, kitten?" he commented silkily. "Don't like getting a little wet?" He turned to face F'lix directly, rolling a shoulder. "Yet you seemed all too willing to shove me into the water. Not very nice of you." Nevermind that he'd tugged the younger man in with him. "Maybe I have a grudge against water, too." Clearly still mocking him, but, really, what was expected? F'lix had most definitely started it. (Drawn whiskers were ignored. There were other ways to get back at someone, weren't there?)

[rii]

By the sounds of the sputtering, the splash must have made a direct hit. The satisfied smile–more of a smirk–returned. The younger kept his back firm to the Fortian as he sloshed up on shore, kicking out his wet, slightly muddied feet in the process. He wasn't worried about F'ur making a sneak attack from behind because.. being stealthy and quick through water just didn't work. He stole a glance at himself on the reflective surface of the stream–tch. "At least it's something original now."

For a long moment the Bendenite simply stood, limbs held away as he.. dripped, and nothing more. F'ur voice, however, spurred him into motion–clear by the way he almost flinched out of whatever discomfort had caused the rigid stance. He spun around, stalked over to the rock while keeping his eyes well away from the Fortian. He doubled at the waist and riffled through the small pack–being sure to stay over an arm's length away from F'ur in the process. He paused only long enough to steal a few quick glances at the man's foot. The ink design seemed to be holding well enough. A couple of days would tell if any damage had been done due to F'lix antics. He just couldn't help himself..

.. just as he couldn't stop himself now. Casually wringing out the front of his shirt then flicking the water droplets at the Fortian. Grudge against water? Here, have some more. "You deserved it." Golden eyes flickered up briefly, making an unplanned stop on F'ur's torso before moving up to his face. He narrowed his gaze for emphasis. What he was trying to stress was beyond him. In his opinion, F'ur had started it. A smirk quirked at the corner of his lips when he noticed the ink mess still clinging to F'ur's neck and part of his face. F'lix certainly looked the more ridiculous out of them both, but he still felt pleased, to an extent, that some of it was on the older. F'lix gaze, even though slitted, took on that feline amusement–secretive and silently laughing at another's expense.

The last bit of clean cloth was retrieved from the pack and F'lix shuffled around, making a wide circle around F'ur to reach the edge of the stream–a clean spot not muddied by their footsteps. Examining his reflection, he began to wipe away the smearing on his face. It wasn't going so well, but at least he didn't look like such a mess. His drenched clothes were another matter, F'lix stood and with a pained expression, began to wring out the dark material. Squeezing as much as the excess water he could from the front before just fanning the shirt. What he wouldn't do for a decent breeze, he sulked–glaring out over the stream.

[Requiem]

"What, the F'lix rendition of a mud-monster?"

Wet cat impression was still going strong. Did the other do it on purpose, or was he really that similar to a feline? It seemed rather ironic, though, that the last few times F'ur had gone out with the intent of hunting down a feline...he'd come up with F'lix. The connection was forever burned in his mind now. It helped that the Bendenite didn't seem to particularly like that parallel, oh yes. Anything that would annoy the young man seemed to please F'ur. Maybe it was the glare. Those little glares were so...absolutely harmless.

"Did I now?" he responded, voice low with amusement and just a touch of challenge. F'ur didn't bother to hide his intent of following the Bendenite to the edge of the stream. It wouldn't be so terrible to take a swim just about now, he mused quietly, if not for the foot. He cast a glance at his odd companion. Still looking quite disgruntled. Sliding his hands into his pockets - which took a bit of effort given his pants were clinging, too - the bluerider shook himself violently, spraying droplets of water everywhere. He smirked down at the younger rider. "Maybe you're right."

Reaching over with deliberate slowness, he caught up F'lix's arm by the sleeve, letting it drop. "I'd say you're in a bit of a feisty mood, kitten. I've no string, but if you'd like to play..." A flash of teeth that was half-invitation, half-challenge. "No mud-wrestling, though, much as you'd probably love to get down and dirty with me." Ah, there he went again. Flirting without thinking. F'ur didn't outwardly show his brief annoyance with himself. One of these days he'd learn to shut that down - outside of random flailing rants, that was.

Before the Bendenite had a chance to answer, however, he was already striding back for the rock. "Probably too tired, though. Wading through water is such a difficult task." The man mounted the rock in a bound, flopping down in a movement that should have been graceless but...strangely wasn't. He stretched out on his back on the rock, pillowing his head on his arms and closing his eyes. Ah yes. The warmth was nice.

[rii]

F'lix bristled upon feeling the wet droplets hit him–not that already being wet they should make any difference to his sodden state. They still felt cold and F'lix response laid more in reaction to F'ur's dog-like shaking than anything else. He turned, idly mopping at his wet cheek with the cloth while he eyes carefully watched F'ur's slow movements. Strange, that one, F'lix didn't know what to make of it.

All the subtle (really not so) challenges were getting to F'lix. As much as he tried to ignore them.. he couldn't. Eyes were slowly becoming more fixated on F'ur with a near frightening intensity. A mere snort was given to the flirtatious words. Still, the aspect of a game.. or playing.. whatever F'ur had in mind, appealed to the Bendenite. So when F'ur walked away, it was F'lix turn to follow, albeit cautiously. He did this, crossing his arms over his chest, warily eyeing the other as his subconscious urged him to go back in the opposite direction.

Silently he observed the lounging Fortian, weighing out his choices.. but stubbornly.. he couldn't turn down a challenge. A fault really, easily baited into a situation, but F'lix was still alive and.. mostly.. well, so he would manage. "Don't kick me." He gruffly warned the man–since his eyes were closed. F'lix leaned against the side of the boulder and reached over to touch the carved foot to carefully examine the lines. Slowly his brow knitted as he kept his attention on the foot, yet his mind roved wildly, torn between what he wanted to do, and what he should do..

"You have something in mind?" He queried softly, voice raising at the end with a show of mild interest. Better to know what F'ur was thinking instead of trying to guess.. not that he would get a straight and cohesive answer either way. His touch receded and his gaze traveled up to F'ur's face; watching, expecting to be shown something–not prattled at with more teasings and taunts. Actions spoke louder than words.

And, following that motto, F'lix raised his leg, setting his knee firm against the boulder to hoist himself up beside F'ur. One arm braced against the rock as he leaned over the older man, the other hand reached out to slide the ink-stained cloth over the tip of F'ur's nose. There, F'lix smirk at the black mark left behind, he accepted F'ur's challenge. "But, if you want to take a nap instead. I understand." He clucked his tongue, pulling his touch away. "We youngsters have too much energy for one as.. aged.. as yourself to manage."

[Requiem]

Really? Silly creature. He didn't just randomly flail at everything, and F'lix was easy enough to hear when you knew to listen for him. Yup. Couldn't resist a challenge, could the kid? That was one thing especially easy for F'ur to pick up on. They were the sort of people he liked baiting, for one, and he was bonded to just such a personality. Ino's half-interested presence in his mind expressed mild displeasure. No human was like him. F'ur didn't bother to hide his amusement, even as he soothed the blue's ego. No, of course not. There was no creature on Pern so efficient or dour as Ino. The dragon huffed, but apparently this did placate him, because he went back to his half-doze.

The odd trace of fingers on skin had F'ur's toes twitching, though he made no other move. If he didn't consciously think about not moving - the man tended to be fairly sensual, and nerves sparked into life by cuts and bruises tended to be rather more difficult to ignore than someone just brushing him with their fingertips randomly. "Yes, kitten," he drawled slowly, though he didn't bother to elaborate at all. Why should he? The Bendenite hadn't committed...really, F'lix wasn't that much better than F'ur, as far as being direct was concerned. Which only served to amuse the Fortian, that the younger man had complained about it. He didn't much mind the game of figuring other people out. Probably helped that he was moderately good at it.

Wet clothes brushing against each other and skin, the shadow falling across his eyelids...he wasn't that surprised to feel cloth sliding over his nose, though one eye opened as he cocked a brow at the bluerider. "You have a point there, kitten. Probably shouldn't even try." His leg had come up, the foot planted lightly against F'lix's stomach...exerting just enough pressure that it's presence wouldn't be easy to ignore. But he didn't push the kid away, as it would have been simple to do.

No, instead, as the arm retreated, he rose slightly and caught the rag in his teeth, letting his head fall back onto his arms. It was in that decidedly lax position that he smirked slightly at F'lix, speaking through gritted teeth. "But then, I don't really need to try, do I? Not with anyone so wet behind the ears." The last statement came out in what could only be defined as a growling purr. It was likely no accident that he made a comment about water again. He certainly would never have become a harper - was an utter failure as a child in that regard - but he often was just as particular about word choice as they normally were.

If F'lix was going to snark about F'ur's age, the Bendenite was going to hear it. Simple as that. The bluerider always gave back as good as he got...and he wasn't one to turn down challenges much, either, whether verbal or otherwise.

[rii]

To say F'lix was disappointed would be.. accurate. F'ur had made an offer and the younger bluerider had rose to the challenge–albeit in a more mild manner; but he was there all the same. He knew F'ur could play.. but what did he have in mind? Aside from being spurred by F'ur challenging demeanor, F'lix now felt the curiosity draw him even deeper into trouble. He should just turn away while he had the common sense to do such a thing. The foot, however, made him do entirely the opposite. Was that suppose to be a warning to keep his distance? F'lix leaned into it, making it more than just a firm pressure.

Stubbornly he kept hold of the rag, making a face in a mixture of distaste and confusion. The ink stained into the fibers could not be the least bit appetizing. Hn, but F'lix wasn't going to let go–paranoid the Fortian might turn it back on him to draw more silly things. He was mostly clean, if still wet, and he'd like to stay that way (only drier).

The youth suddenly twisted at the hips, the foot he had been leaning into now slide harmlessly across his abdomen. In the same moment F'lix had moved further up the boulder, the other leg sliding over to straddle the Fortian. Slightly raised on knees, to avoid full contact, F'lix had his lower half of his legs folded flat to the back of his thighs. The one hand continued try and tug the rag out from between F'ur's teeth. The other had come down to rest against F'ur bicep, putting some weight behind it–maybe a.. fraction of an attempt to stall the man from getting off a quick counter attack (though in the back of his mind he laughed darkly at a notion. Restrain? F'ur? Far too amusing). If anything, he wanted a better reaction out of the man other than jeering. F'lix was anticipating.. anything, everything, so while his posture was slack, his reflexes were waiting on pins and needles.

Well aware he was always at a disadvantage when it came to F'ur, F'lix dipped low with little concern that he was tempting pain. Physical harm had never warded him away in the past. "You have my attention." He mused, a faint purr to the words. What? Kitten, if the man wanted to call him that, he'd get one crawling right into his lap. No inhibitions there. Play, play? "So stop stringing me along."

He pulled the the rag taunt, golden eyes narrowing on F'ur's features. "No, not really." Admitted easily enough. Couldn't be offended by the truth. Although, all the sharp objects around.. a few still on himself and the ones on F'ur–F'lix could illicit a more immediate response out of the battle-hardened Fortian if he wanted. It wouldn't be a good one, but a reaction none the less. His eyebrow rose, "But, since you are the teacher here.."

[Requiem]

The foot in his gut had to be a little uncomfortable, but F'lix was the one doing it, and farbeit for F'ur to get in the way if he wanted to stick a foot through to his spine. Odd little minx. (Not that F'lix was really that much smaller or weaker than him. Just enough that F'ur's dominant streak didn't feel so challenged that he felt the need to assert himself.)

He growled mildly around the rag as F'lix came to straddle him, bending over him, his free arm sliding out from under his head and dangling partially off the rock. The foot that had been keeping F'lix at a distance came to rest against the stone, his knee up and his body coiled to push up off his back if needed. But that didn't change the relaxed nature of his posture much, particularly as his eyes half-slitted.

F'ur released the rag. It would have been amusing if the action threw F'lix off-balance, but he wasn't pulling back with his whole body. Supporting oneself on three limbs tended to be a pretty stable position. "Fraid I don't have any on me, kitten." String, of course, something the younger man should be able to figure out readily enough, though F'ur wasn't about to explain if he didn't.

"You've a point. If I ever want to have a decent challenge..." He used his grounded leg to push up, jerking his torso up to within a centimeter of F'lix's face. The movement shifted his hips sideways and up closer to his head along the stone, and he hooked his left leg around F'lix's waist. His right stretched out again, the man once more sprawled out on his back, but now F'lix wouldn't be hovering over him.

Yawning, he returned to putting both hands behind his head. "You're a decent enough hand with those claws, kitten. But you can't grapple worth a damn." F'lix was actually pretty decent for a Bendenite, particularly one who didn't run with the fighters, but he still wasn't much of a match for the war junkies who'd grown up and survived through the northern wars. "Puts you at something of a disadvantage."

[rii]

F'lix quickly tossed the rag aside, rubbing his fingers against the stone to get rid of the ink clinging to his fingers from gripping it. "Pity." He quipped, a slight raise and lowering of his brows as he glanced aside. Head tilted away as the chest arced toward him and when the leg came up and dislodged him from his position, F'lix.. chuckled. He fully disentangled his legs and sat back on his heels, feet bend so toes were flat against the rock. A half-smile slipped over his face as he peered down at the lounging man.

"No, not against you, for certain." A tone almost on the verge of sounding.. cheerful. "I've always used a blade, it's what I know. I can guard against one well enough too.. because people tend to focus that the knife is their only weapon. Control it or turn their own blade against them. Easy to distract people into concentrating on a blade as well. I can some-what grapple then, when I know what's the most dangerous part." A lofty shrug. "But you, your whole sharding body is a weapon."

Might as well talk about it.. if F'ur was really going to teach him. Sure enough he saw the weakness already. But the man was just lying there, and short of just pouncing on top of him, F'lix didn't know how to get him to act; to play. Of course he opted not to mention if they did fight.. F'ur wouldn't allow him to get so close, and if F'lix did get near enough, F'ur would be bleeding–badly.

Slowly F'lix had been moving back further onto the balls of his feet, taking his time, muscles coiling. One hand had even came down, fingers splayed firmly against the warm rock. He had been giving serious consideration to the idea of just.. throwing himself at F'ur to maybe spur him into teaching something. Not a bright idea, but F'lix was drawing a blank on anything brilliant. Maybe just tell the truth? Always worth a shot.

"I don't want to even try anything on you because I'm afraid you'll get angry. I don't do sparring. Never had the luxury. Always in and out. Trade a cut for a kill, nothing else." F'lix rolled his shoulders in another shrug. He often enough put himself in a position to get hurt, but it was usually to get close enough to take a life. A cut, a bruise, a broken bone, anything like that would heal. Pain was temporary, death permanent. "So if you are going to teach me something, please.. teach. I've never had a teacher, mentor.. whatever you want to call it so give me some rules to follow or something. And I'm not good a guessing games. I don't want to annoy you.. any further than I may have."

[Requiem]

He eyed F'lix for a moment, his expression more pensive, but no less relaxed, just the same. Every movement of F'lix's was being projected through his core, just as it would for anyone. F'ur liked fighting close, feeling how someone was going to move, because muscles didn't lie like facial expression could. Like feints could. The quicker men could still get the better of him - on rare occasion - but it usually didn't last long and he still had time to at least minimize the damage in most cases. And if it made the fight more intimate than perhaps was healthy...F'ur didn't mind. He'd long ago accepted that while he wasn't the half-crazed creature most of Fort treated him as, he was different. Perhaps broken. He was okay with that, though. Normal could be so terribly boring.

"Of course it is, F'lix," he responded quietly. "You're right. Especially some of the older ones...they've seen so many fights, seen how frail they are, and they feel the need for the knife, forgetting that even the most fragile of things can be dangerous." He clenched the muscles in his thigh lightly as punctuation to the words, the leg loosening again immediately. It slid back down and out of play. For now.

He smiled reassuringly at the kid. "Hey, just make sure I know you're there and you'll be fine, F'lix. I can't get rid of turns worth of reflexes and reactions, but if I know you're there muscle memory won't be an issue. Understand?" The man arched against the stone, one of his joints creaking. He winced slightly at the sound. "I've only got three rules. That's one. The second is no blades...I get on edge and that's bad for everyone involved. Plus you won't learn right. Third, if either one of us calls a halt, we stop, no questions asked."

Smiling slightly at F'lix, he wiggled his toes. "Simple enough to start. Try to pin me and we'll go from there. I don't believe in technique practicing on living dummies or explanations. Learn by doing."

[rii]

F'lix sat back, hands moving up to thighs as his eyes narrowed in thought. Dull wet taps sounded from his fingers, lightly drumming against the fabric. A wry twist of lips at the mention of frailty. He couldn't count how many bones he had broken, how often he had bled, sometimes he was surprised he was still around. Those golden eyes dropped down to his lap as he held his fingers together on his left hand, examining how the ring finger and pinky slightly torqued away from the others.

Eyes slipped to F'ur's leg then back up to the man's.. smile. It all sounded genuine enough, yet F'lix was having a hard time fully accepting the words. The apprehension he felt toward F'ur might fade given time, but part of him repeated over and over all the seeds of doubt. He did turst F'ur not to hurt him, physically, but pain was the least of his worries. An acknowledging nod was given to the question.

A smile flashed at the sound–but any quips about age were kept behind closed lips. Not that the creaking meant anything, but the wince F'ur showed just made it all the more humorous. Right, rules, he knew better than to surprise the Fortian. As for blades, F'lix arched a brow but didn't comment. Paranoia spoke of many worries, but F'lix would have never pulled steel on the other bluerider. They were more of a comfort.. and he didn't draw unless he planned to use it. Silently he complied, removing the slender thigh sheath and two smaller ones from his back. Carefully he reached over and tapped the dirk on F'ur's side, a slight smirk at the corner of lips. "I tend to be resourceful."

Then.. F'lix's expression waned, twisting into dismay. Pin F'ur? The look alone spoke clearly of his confidence in his grappling skills when pitted against the Fortian. What even counted as a pin? He began rifling through his memory, golden eyes seem to flicker and haze as he tried to remember any restrain he would be brave enough to attempt. Should just demonstrate his utter failure by just flopping on top of the man, but.. that wouldn't be taking it seriously. He had to at least try. Couldn't F'ur just pin him and he could learn that way? Seems so.. less embarrassing by that method.

The hesitation disappeared instantly, springing forward with a determination to.. get the humiliation over with. Back turn against F'ur's side while left elbow went to press against F'ur's right shoulder, the same arm snaking around behind the Fortian's neck. Left arm pulled F'ur's right one up to hug around his torso and hugged it there. F'lix kept curled against the man, putting pressure down across the chest in the attempt to keep him 'pinned' against the rock (Really, the ground would have been more forgiving). Legs spread apart to counter balance any movements.

[Requiem]

Ah. Right. Best not to tempt F'lix if he happened to get skittish. F'ur rarely used daggers...mainly because that meant one of his hands was now occupied, and he tended to find his hands to be more useful when they held nothing. Wouldn't want F'lix provoking an odd reaction from him, though. He was about to remove the blade when the younger man pounced - something of a surprise given that he'd looked like he'd been kicked in the teeth just a second ago when F'ur suggested attempting to pin him. The Fortian blinked, definitely caught flatfooted.

Wriggling slightly, because no doubt it was expected, he got the arm not being actively held out from under him and quite calmly unstrapped the knife, letting it fall off of the rock. "Not bad. Someone show you that?" he asked the Bendenite, a trace of amusement behind his voice. It wasn't unlike one of the things they'd been taught as weyrlings. Although...that was pretty much most of what would go on here, anyway. The more dangerous things probably should be left alone for awhile.

The Fortian shifted his hips away from F'lix. That was the weakness of the pin, really. It immobilized the head and one shoulder, partially immobilizing the other side of the torso. Best-case scenario you had enough mass to keep the chest down. But it left the legs free, and legs were, in most cases, far stronger than the upper body, even with guys who were really built. That was just the way things were. He shifted his free hand, palming the rock as he twisted his hips, pressing them back against the other bluerider to help loosen the hold. Instead of trying to free his arm, he worked it behind F'lix's neck and clamped onto the man's shoulder.

One more strong thrust of his hips, and he was on his knees, coiling his leg around the nearest of F'lix's and releasing the shoulder, sliding his arm up and over the nearer shoulder to press down with the full weight of his torso onto the younger man's shoulder, his arm pinned. "You can try to get out of this, if you want," F'ur commented quietly. "It might benefit you to try to figure it out for yourself. But I can also put you in the same hold and you can try to get loose the way I did. Or your own way. Your call."

Clearly, he did intend to teach.

[rii]

Awkward. Not the close physical contact, F'lix didn't mind that at all–at the moment hardly even noticed it when in that scenario. What made him feel unmistakably nervous laid in that while F'ur had apparently fully taken to teaching him, taking on a demeanor that was .. patient, accepting, dare he say nice. The likelihood of eventually disappointing the Fortian, to have the man cast him aside once found inadequate, made F'lix feel a touch sick. The thoughts were on the verge of reminiscing on why it bothered him so much, but F'lix stubbornly continued to push away, unsuccessfully, at the mental naggings.

They had only just started and already F'lix regretted ever opening his mouth, to admitting that he wanted to learn. Why did F'ur even accept? It was such a stupid, stupid idea. It had been more tolerable when not all out in the open. Such a conflicting mix of emotions, F'lix hated lying, hated pretending, but he had preferred the illusion that F'ur was only teasing him about the teaching.

Movements. F'lix seemed to slowly come out of his stubor–the thoughts storming in his head distracting him from the task at hand. He pushed with his legs, spine curving back a bit to try and prevent F'ur from turning, but one foot slipped off the edge of rock, losing any advantage to the pin. The ground would have been better, but F'lix wasn't going to complain about that small detail. In a fight he didn't get to chose his surroundings.

"One of the older riders was messing around and did it to one of the weyrlings." He responded, a tad distant in tone with a hint of uncertainty. "Did I even get it right?"

Again his foot slipped on sloping edges of the boulder, and when F'ur made to push his shoulder down, F'lix almost mindlessly submitted to the restraint. The free leg snaked up underneath him, foot flat against the stone. F'lix arched back, using the leg to give it strength and rise bodies enough to gain leeway–to bend his other leg away from between F'ur's and join alongside the first. He shoved with both of them, attempting to throw them backwards off the side of the rock. No moves to get free, or to grab at the other. Nope, F'lix seemed more intent to get them off the rock and use F'ur as a landing pad–rolling to the side of the pinned arm once they came to a halt.

[Requiem]

"No problem with it, no." In fact, that hold wasn't bad at all if you wanted to hold someone immobile for just long enough to get in a fatal stab or break their neck...something not at all difficult from that position. Of course, it worked better on your stomach where you could get both arms around the person and clamp them down, but that required a bit more delicacy as to where to put your arms and apply pressure, or they'd slip you easier. The position F'lix had taken up had more leverage. "Other than its normal range of weaknesses." Everything had a weakness, though. That was one of the most important things to learn when fighting...nothing was foolproof. This is why speed is so important. Take someone down before they can find the weakness and exploit it, and weaknesses didn't matter anymore.

The movements that followed pretty much answered the question he'd never really asked, though. That was good, he supposed. The Fortian's legs shifted to a straight ninety degrees below his hips and slid out for stability, the fingers on the ground splaying further. He used the better position to put more force behind the pin, not giving F'lix anything easily. But that didn't keep the younger man from using his legs, sure enough.

Seems he learned quickly enough. Torso pinned, don't attempt to use the torso to free yourself.

And his legs weren't weak, either. F'ur's right leg - the one closer to F'lix - slid up into a bent position, leaving him on one knee but removing some of the strength he could put behind keeping the Bendenite down. That made it easier for F'lix to send them both off the rock, F'ur helping the push along slightly to keep either of them from cracking their skulls on the rock and twisting his body more so that F'lix was directly on top of him and he took the brunt of the fall. They might have seemed like merciful moves, but, in truth, he had his reasons for giving up the dominant position.

Reasons that became obvious as his arm slid up through F'lix's pinned arm to lock behind his head, his other arm joining it shortly on the other side. F'lix's legs were still free, but he really didn't have anything much to use as leverage while lying flat on F'ur's chest. The Fortian didn't move to do anything more just yet - still catching his breath from when he'd hit the dirt. He didn't recover from falls as quickly as he'd used to, not when he landed flat like that.

[rii]

Oh. F'lix blinked, surprised when F'ur went straight back instead of trying to turn their course. That couldn't have felt good, and the younger did notice the change in breathing. It caused him to momentarily still in his actions, the concern on the tip of his tongue by not allowed to be transformed into words. Precisely one of the reasons he was downright terrible at sparring–he worried about hurting someone. That shouldn't have been a concern for a Bendenite, and usually wasn't, but he didn't want to cause harm to people he liked; that list being very short in length and counted on one hand.

A grunt sounded, paired with an amused smirk at the familiarity of the hold. Effective, more easy to duck out of when standing, not so much when horizontal and lying on top of the captor. There were other ways to get free, but for the moment F'lix slowly tested the range of motion with his shoulders, then his head–it wasn't nice to know with a simple use of pressure on the back of the head.. manipulating the spine..

"Mm.. " F'lix relaxed, merely lounging back against the Fortian while his mind idly pondered over his options. Sort of comfortable, aside from the hold. If he could have he would have flopped his head back. As it was, he merely tried to turn his face a bit to glimpse side-long at F'ur's face. "Sorry." He said it quickly, quietly and dismissed it aside with his reason. "I tend to be reckless. I don't hold much concern over my well being if you haven't picked up on that already. But uh, as for you.. are you alright?" F'lix didn't want to insult F'ur by asking, but still felt the need. ".. if you are–"

His heel dug into the junction of thigh and hip, not putting effort into the move–the point of it was pressure, and if chose to dig his heel into the tender spot just off to the side, F'ur would have been in pain. Not an easy move to do if they had been standing, but they weren't. "I don't know how to get–" He twisted at the hips, bending knees up to bring his legs over to one side in an attempt to wriggle out of the hold. Arms going straight while neck tried to bend his head away from the hands. The ending result an odd contortion of limbs and back. The angle in which he had bent his own neck against the pressure of hands had him choking to breathe.

Apparently that way didn't work.

F'lix rolled back a bit, turned his head and bite the underside of F'ur's right arm. Not hard, at least not enough to draw blood, more an action to be felt and acknowledged. F'lix didn't know what else to do besides feral thrashing and resorting to claws and teeth. Hopeless. He was utterly hopeless. Pathetic. F'ur was going to give up on him, just wait and see. "Show me?"