[color=39b54a][h2][u][i]Zane Wulfe[/i][/u][/h2][/color]
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The Lady was beautiful, though it was deeper than her aestetics. She smelled of iron, its signiture scent imprinted on her through a lifetime of practice with the sword. Frankly, he could never hope to equal her skill with the blade, her grace born of eternity, so he didn't try to emulate her.

Lycans are naturally instinctive, indeed they were said to be wolves who learned to take the form of man, so in battle he fed into those instincts. When he first approached the Lady about this, she was leery. Relying on instincts meant opening yourself up to darker emotions that could cloud judgement and even lead to becoming a berserker and attacking everyone around you. She had eventually agreed on the condition he practiced mental discipline to keep his emotions in check.

There had been several false starts, most notably the time he had almost strangled one of the teachers. He had barely managed to leave the room without breaking the rules after the speech about caging the beast. He [i]was[/i] the beast.

In the end it was Odin who, as always, had the answer to his issue. When a wolf is on the hunt with the pack they focus on the prey, letting all other concerns fall to the wayside. By visualising his target as his prey, he could slip into a state between his instincts and his conscious mind. He would never, even under threat of death, tell the Lady that he saw her as a giant fluffy bunny when using this technique.

Words were useless during the actual combat, Zane was a wolf of few words even when he wasn't focusing. His way of fighting was more brutish than both the Lady and Neoh, preferring to block or deflect attacks rather than dodge. The fight had been in the Lady's favour from the start, though his natural endurance had managed to last him a good forty five minutes without a break. His sword was currently chipping under the blows, this would make the second one this year that broke under the stress. Zane himself wasn't much better, his body was covered in wounds, mostly shallow due to his regeneration, and his shirt was currently in shreds.

[color=39b54a]”I give, Lady Blackhart.”[/color] Zane growled, his breathing shallow from exertion and wasting energy in regeneration. The two spent another fifteen minutes discussing the fight, or rather the Lady breaking down the fight with Zane’s occasional input. After stretching to make sure he wasn't stiff later, he bid the Lady farewell and headed to the canteen for a meal so he could stop feeling dead inside.