1205 WORDS

[AMBER FO SHO]

Dakota watched Samantha with barely undisguised pleasure. If she would've known that she was going to get a hit on her, then Dakota probably would've threw in something a little more damaging. But, the distance that Sam got from the momentum was perfect. Dakota couldn't help but flinch a little though as her oppenents wings continually hit the ground, and she was glad to say that hers were still in their, if not bloody, good condition. When Samantha had pushed her back, she didn't go very far, and actually managed to land on her feet, which was quiet a bonus to her. Screw cats, bird-kids could land on their feet at anytime if they knew what they were doing. She saw Samantha finally hit the wall, and Dakota smirked tauntingly to herself.

She kept Samantha's gaze as she got back on her feet, and Dakota instantly slipped into defensive mode when she heard a crack and something falling. Probably barely half a second before Samantha did, Dakota had jumped back, using her wings to transfer her normal two and a half foot backwards jump to almost a six foot graceful jump backwards and the old billboard fell atop of Samantha with an audible crack, and Dakota winced as she saw the formidable opponent that was Sam crumble to the ground like ants under a shoe. The debris instantly filled the air with a thin line of dust that obscured her view for mere seconds before her eyes focused on the form. Something in this ringed to her past, and a memory came flooding through her head.

The tall unmowed grass waved gaily in the slight breeze that overcame the new training area, which was choosen as soon as the snow melted away from the area. It was stationed near the trees, to make sure that whlie training, bird-kids and Erasers were nearly on even grounds, unless the bird-kids went over the treetops... Or if they could even get that far. Typically, if you were going to the treetops, you were losing and the Eraser would come down on you hard, and then the coach would whistle and you would be carted off to Lab to be tested on injections to see what would increase your stamina, bloodflow, ect. ect. ect, to make you better for the next fight. It was all monotonous, but as far as Dakota could remember, she hadn't been at the bottom of the fight in quite a while.

Both Dakota and the Eraser she was currently training with were running out of their stamina for the day. This particular grouping had been fighting for nearly two hours, and they'd been up and doing different sparring activities for almost seven hours before that. This was the last battle of the day, the winner would be champion of the day and would get the next day off. As soon as you finished one session, you were moved to the next, and within seconds you were fighting again. Dakota, having now recovered enough to charge again, whipped out her wings and charged forward at her oppenent, knocking into them with her shoulder and throwing them against a rather weak tree nearby.

Though weak, the tree was probably about twenty feet tall, but the momentum and weight of the Eraser was more than enough to rattle it hard enough so that several large branches, from this tree and another towerering one rather close, landed on top of the poor Eraser, knocking him out instantaneously and pinning him down. Dakota stayed where she was at, watching the Eraser and waiting for him to come back up, her gaze narrowed, her breathing coming back to it's normal pace, and her hair and feathers ruffled tremendously. All and all, it had been a pretty even fight, but she had had the element of surprise in that attack, nothing more. She continued to look at the Eraser, still waiting.

"DAKOTA! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! A NEON SIGN TELLING YOU IT'S OPEN NIGHT?! FINISH THE WEAKLING OFF!" the Coach was yelling at her. This was why she didn't like training; you were expected to kill in order to win. Dakota didn't move, her gaze still trained on her opponent. Coach blew his whistle, one that 'was specially made for when Dakota wasn't listening' as he had put it. The sharp blast rang through her eardrums in the sound of nails on a chalkboard, but a thousand times louder and intensified. Dakota winced in discomfort, only moving enough to cover her hands to her ears to block out the buzzing noise. "GET YOUR BUTT MOVING OR NO MEALS FOR A WEEK! ARE YOU LISTENING?!" She wasn't, she was making it very obvious for him.

The Coach blew another whistle, this one was to say that the session was over. He was red as a tomato, and his brows were so furrowed they looked like a uni-brow or an overgrown caterpillar. A few of the other sparers went and collected the Eraser and bustled him off to the Lab. Dakota was left with the looming figure of The Coach. He approached her now, and she still did not move as his vice-like hand took a hold of her shoulder and shook her violently. "We can't afford you freezing up like this, Dakota," He said with a forced patience. "If you continue to do this, your place here will be destroyed. SO KILL WHEN YOU GET THE CHANCE!" He shouted, shaking her again.

Dakota pulled back sharply, breaking his grip with an even roll of her shoulder, turning to look at him with eyes that could freeze Hades over. "Coach, if your stupid human mind could understand that I am NOT an Eraser. I do not kill when the opponent is defenseless. I do not kill for pleasure. I kill for survival," Dakota spoke with an eerily calm voice, but it was veiled and laced with a deadly poison. "Unless you're going to change me into an Eraser in the near future, don't expect me to do anything against the morals of a bird-kid," She finished, and turned to leave, looking finished. After about three steps, she stopped and spoke over her shoulder. "Know very well that I would rather die than became one of those mangy mutts. Good day," And with that she turned and left, with not even a turn back.

Other than the fact that she didn't hate Erasers as much as she did back then and this was a real situation, this occurance was so simular that it made her shiver with the discomfort of that ringing whistle. A small smile came to her face when she remembered that she had, indeed, thrown it into a fire when she had beat that Coach when he had insulted her once more. Simular to the last time, she turned away from Samantha and took an over-turned chair and sat it upright, taking a seat and crossing her ankles in a patient fashion, leaning back in the chair. If Fox wanted to kill her, he could, but she was holding by her morals--which she had very few of--so she would wait until Samantha came too before attack once again.

ooc: Lol, the funny thing is, Dakota will fight like an Eraser because she was raised with them. There's nothing about it in her applications, but if you want to know more, just PM me. XD

Also, just got to 1,205 words. WHOO-HOO~!