Olive grunted as her knees were kicked, slipping a few feet in the air before flying back up to Wisteria's side. Gritting her teeth, she prepared a defensive stance, golden eyes burning hot in a silent challenge for the male Raven to attack her. A simpering sneer made its way onto her face as the male dove kicked him in the stomach, temper flaring at his insult. "Wench? Wench?" She hissed, "I'll cut more than that."<br/><br/>The small Dove refused conflict for a reason. She thought bloodshed was vulgar and the entire idea of fighting seemed gritty, not at all elegant like the idea of leading an army to victory. Or making battle plans to destroy the will of the opposition. However, once thrown into battle, it was like a switch went off inside Olive's brain. She did enough damage to injure and force defeat, but never enough to kill. She wasn't that barbaric.<br/><br/>The current problem, she deducted, was the female Raven. Razial was now made angry, and angry fighters didn't think clearly, make the right choices. But Casey seemed like she fought differently, using her head instead of strength to win her fights. Oliver's eyes narrowed, flitting from one enemy to the other, waiting until Wisteria made the decision on whether to fight on, or retreat to assist the other Doves.