Rose looked across the sparring circle to Grey Wolf, her breath was ragged from training all morning and her clothes were heavy with sweat. Once more she ran towards him, her bare feet kicking up the dry sand of the circle, her form racing gracefully through the chill morning air. She saw him feinting right, his face the very image of confidence, she steered slightly left and with all the strength of her slender legs, she jumped. Her body was almost horizontal in the air, her clenched fist rapidly speeding past her head, and then it was as if time stopped still and she was taken from her own body.