The beast is pleased to spar with a Basineer, a fellow herdmate. Still, the ebonite bodiced knight knows that the aureate king's eyes watch, with cold, hard, judgement. He follows behind Ashamin, each step cautiously placed as they move to fight, Ashamin takes the side closer to the Frozen Lake. If his eyesight was heightened, he would be able to look past Caleb and see proud sentinels man the border, protecting the land. The brute halts, the fluffy snow settling between the crook in cloven hooves, almost numbing them inside out. His loyal hound, Henrietta, moves to the sidelines and watches, too young to participate, a delicate dandelion. Caleb's pupil-less eyes settle on Ashamin as he dips his head like they do in martial arts fight before the round starts. It's funny though, Caleb does not recall this being karate. In a proud maneuver, all too cocky for a supposedly shy and timid creature, Ashamin tears his newly-empty sarong from his breasts and flings it in the air. Caleb's face is hard as he does so, but on the inside he wonders what Ashamin thinks of sparring. Is this a game to him? Some sort of hobby he can have fun with? Fighting is more. Despite this being a friendly battle, it is still a battle. There will be cuts and bruises.

Adrenaline begins pouring into his veins as he makes a play in his mind, quickly planning on what to do. No soldier will be unprepared and wing an attack, that is in far from cautionary and may have consequences such as death. Caleb is so still in his posture, that it is not surprising he hasn't become stone. The subtle dip of his own head would have gone unnoticed by those in their own world's, a simple gesture that says, I accept this challenge. Suddenly, cold, silver eyes dance with heat, a molten searing intensity. Brow furrows for a split second. In this second, Caleb's mind reels. Does he truly want to injure Ashamin? In a way, it feels like attacking a brother to him. Though not blood related, they are family now. This is just training. With that in mind, ears snap backwards, feathered tail begins whipping behind him, slashing the snow brutally with every movement, throwing dustings of the sugary substance into the air with each contact.

The sudden burst of movement comes after nearly a minute of simply standing, watching Ashamin dip his head and throw his white flag. He lunges forward, jaw wide as he moves to attempt an attack on Ashamin head-on. The beast's goal is to simply ram his opponent. He lowers his head as he advances, in hopes of stabbing Ashamin and also pushing him to the ground with the bulk of his weight. The move is slightly flashy, very ambitious. It will certainly leave some sort of impression on Ashamin of Caleb's fighting tactics, but then again who knows what Ashamin thinks? There is no specific spot he aims at, most likely his chest area if Ashamin lifts his head, or his head is he doesn't. If Ashamin turns to spin around and run, Caleb will continue his galloping approach and shove his horn into his ass cheek and give the thing another asshole. Cloven hooves are not the best for fighting, it seems. Caleb has trouble gripping with them as he moves forth, causing him to use more energy and work harder, not to mention it's a challenge to move all his bulk quickly, so he works with the element of surprise. He pushes on, desiring to make a name for himself here in the basin.