The Lady rose triumphant over her Corporal, but it left an ashen, bitter taste in her mouth. Disappointment. It was no battle to crow over, nothing to impress her, but at least Sialia had shown up unlike the other bottom-dwelling maggots that masqueraded as her soldiers. Her arrogance certainly needed to be capped and reworked, but at least she had some measure of pride, Hotaru snorted to herself as she stood staring down the dark lass. Whether anyone still stood around watching did not matter to her, armor sliding peacefully across her skin like a whisper of conciliation, of triumph as it collected back into the tiara nestled behind her horn. Regarded Sialia quietly, the words gathering like fire and brimstone on her tongue, preparing to lash the woman. Bring her low with shame and then build her back up into the Corporal the Basin needed. The one they deserved. In creation there was destruction, equivalent exchange, and she would use the ashes to create the phoenix that Sialia deserved to be.
 
“Arrogance is unbecoming,” she began sharply, standing proud and triumphant before the Corporal, eyes shining like cold stones. “I fight you here, before our brethren, so that you may feel the shame of your defeat. So that they may see that I am their Lady, and deserving of their title!” It whips out, lashes against all ears, and her magic gives a high, discordant whistle as the winds pick up around her in a show of power that settles only once she believes it has been firmly understood. This was a demonstration not only of Sialia’s power, but of Hotaru’s. If the Lady did not feel comfortable or confident enough to challenge her Corporal before them all, then they would doubt her abilities on the battlefield. And there would never, so long as Hotaru lived and breathed, be doubt cast upon her skill.
 
The demoness struck forward across the snow and tundra, a prowling cat, eyes flinty and mouth curled disappointedly downwards. “You must work, constantly, to deserve their title. It may fall to your name, Sialia, but it does not belong to you. It is the Basin’s. You are lifted by their voices, bolstered by their spirits. That is what a herd means. You protect them, and in turn they bestow upon you their trust. And nothing is more important than the implicit trust of your people.” Alice snarled as she advanced to Hotaru’s side, regal and obedient, hellish in her otherworldly lupine relations. She was wolf but distinctly not-wolf, eyes hell-black and jaws still dripping residual acid. Hotaru calmed her with a stray thought and the bitch tucked herself to Hotaru’s shin, imposing but controlled. A team, a pair, a working machine.
 
“Everything is a challenge to your title and worth, Sialia. Never regard this as a mere spar. If you win, I am seen as weaker in my position as Lady. And the reverse could be said of you if you were to fall to one of your soldiers. Never slack, and always respect your opponent. This, today? This was a challenge. And you passed.” Alice huffed softly at her side even as a sharp, dazzling smirk grew upon Hotaru’s pretty visage. Oh, Sialia may not have won physically, but she’d impressed Hotaru. That was what she’d been looking for all this time. Passion. Dedication. Power.
 
“You’re a capable Corporal, Sialia. But our soldiers are faltering. I want your help to fix this.” As if Hotaru would allow that kind of failure in her herdlands. 

Set after their spar!