「 Skill Point ― Warrior 」

The man met his match, fuelling something inside Asgeir akin to the rage that usually veiled the teenager's mind. It was fire all the same, but it tingled in his spine and felt almost euphoric in his brain as he began to position himself for a fight. With a smirk firmly planted on his maw, Asgeir rolled his shoulders and squared up, sinking his claws into the cool earth of the north.

You're on, old man, he jested easily, flashing the whites of his canines.

Asgeir made the first move, charging the man with a clip of his teeth, only to change direction at the last minute and try to shove the man from the side with his shoulder. He kept his eyes narrowed and head low, smirk still kept solid upon his maw.