Qutan follows his opponent into the combat area as laid out by the rules. “Dry land and water, if there were some ice, it would be like home.” He looks across the ground, and nods to the… must be an Aventi?

Then he looks at the one with the shell and nods to her as well. He was not sure what the protocol was, but this seemed fair.

The female Aventi raises the shell to her lips and blows a clear strong note. Qutan is surprised at this and nearly misses the start of the fight, but his reflexes are quick and he covers the 15’ to his opponent, “I should try and end the fight without killing this one, so I shall keep my temper and simply put all into this first blow and then see where it stands after that. I will look for the countering moves that Raven has taught me.”

Qutan takes care and using all his strength, he takes a swing. How odd it feels to do so without the overwhelming anger which usually drives his fighting. The blow lands true, and with the luck that sometimes accompanies combat, his opponent falls to the floor arms stretched out stiffly. He pulls in the second punch knowing the contest is over.

“How could it be over, the other spoke so confidently of the possibility of death.” The man-bear shrugs his shoulders and calls to his companions. “If the contest is over, could someone tend to him? I do not want him to die.”