Combat, the word slithered in the air. Since birth there had been nothing but fight in her and in her life. Against her will she had battled her brother as they were set like pawns against one another; the beauty versus the beast. Even she knew that losing was the only result she could ever hope to obtain in the desert. In desperation she could have hurt the golden child, but he had their mother and her lovers and their siblings and their half-siblings and sometimes it seemed like the desert itself bent to her will. It left a bitterness on her tongue, acrid and sulfurous.

Survival was the only life she knew and with it came fights. She had to hunt for her own food for it had never been given to her without great cost. She had to find her own water for she was not lead there with kindness. It was no surprise then that even now in the swamp she struggled. Other kin had family and friends; she did not understand what or how such relations occurred. She had been born and rejected, kept for entertainment and laughter. It made her feral, comparatively.

The acha looked at the wooden kin, confusion painting her face. Was this how others learned to fight? In pairs, the kin took turns and she scowled. What kind of ridiculousness was that? There was no fairness, no such thing as turns in battle! She looked back at the wooden kin, walked up to it and wondered.

It would not recoil from bites. It could feel nothing. So what was the point? Was not fighting about pain and victory?

Appetite hissed, closed her eyes, and attempted to kick at the silly target.

The hoof connected with nothing but air; Appetite snickered at herself. Of course she would hit nothing with her eyes closed. Even if it did not move, she could not aim if she could not see.

Perhaps it was a game? The other kin did not seem angry; she heard no yelling and smelled no blood. She didn't understand.

But if she must knock the statue down, well, she could do that.

Appetite dropped down into a bow and launched herself forward.

She landed with a oomph upon the wooden kin; it was sturdier than she had thought. She wriggled, dislodging herself and landing on the ground in a pile of tail and limbs.

Righting herself, she fell back into instinct and snapped her teeth at the figure in annoyance. She raised a hoof.

Re-rolling the 3

The hoof slammed against the wood causing the figure to sway back. It still remained standing and she scowled at the world around her. What fun was this? Absolutely none!

She curled her tail, snapping it out to test the reach. With annoyance, she whipped her tail back and swung it forward.

Re-rolling the 2

The wooden kin toppled over and Appetite grinned with sharp teeth. It still wasn't fun, but it was a success. Those had been few and far between in her life. A victory, no matter how little, was held dear and she skipped merrily through the crowd.

Roll 1: 5, 1, 3, 5, 5; re-roll 3
Roll 2: 2; re-roll 2
Roll 3: 6
Total: 5, 1, 5, 5, 6 = 5, 5, 5, 5 = 20