ahhh i keep forgetting to post this one!! rook and randgris's first meeting was a tumultuous one.

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The afternoon sun beat down on the golden grass and hard packed earth below, both of which Rook had already bled an alarming amount over. She leaned hard on the butt of her walking stick, recently promoted to makeshift bludgeon, and shifted her grip on the hilt of her wickedly curved dagger. Her fingers were sticky with blood, and the last thing she needed was to lose her hold on the thing.
She had a dragon to kill. She was underprepared as it was, she wasn't going to pull it off without every scrap of advantage she could get ahold of.
Her ears shifted forward, picking up the sound of the beast shifting quietly out of sight. It was just over the ridge before her, she was sure it was collecting itself for another rush. Her only comfort right now was that she'd dragged a hell of a gouge down its side with her blade, and not all of the blood spattered across the golden field was hers. It couldn't be doing that great over there.
Blood dripped down the side of her face, and she scrubbed a hand quickly through her blue-gray fur to keep it from her eyes. She picked herself up a little straighter, readied the knife with its blade curved forward like a scorpion's cocked sting, and waited.
This was going to be over soon, one way or another.

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