In the thrill of battle, in the short moments before the teeth and talons bared themselves to you and each glittering tip began for the soft flesh of your neck, you would never stop to think of the perfect tip to each claw, the pearly surface of each fang. Each scale in its perfect place, gleaming under the thin veneer of dust kicked up in the Coliseum. In truth, this hardened warrior isn’t as rough and tumble outside of battle. It’s stressful, the weight of each battle piling itself higher and higher until it’s time to allow herself some rest, taking care of herself and grooming each inch to perfection. No one ever said you have to be gruesome out on the field.