Neverwinter Forest throw my fist

Rannoch’s vigorous thrashing made Cypress incredibly dizzy — for instead of allowing his body to go slack, reducing some of the brain-rattling sensation engendered by his brother’s automatic protest, the pudgy little raven fought the motion every step of the way. He had no choice to let go, his milky blue eyes blurry and unfocused, but he was far from ready to give up. The vertigo made him vulnerable to whatever Rannoch’s next attack might be, but he puffed out his feathers like a displeased black robin and bounded forward regardless with a purling snarl that seemed incongruous with the expression of absolute glee on his face. “Come and get me!” he fairly roared, throwing his head back with a piping howl of invitation — oops! too fast! — and falling flat on his fluffy posterior with the force of it. Scrabbling dizzily to his feet again, Cypress bent his head and scraped his paws on the den floor like an enraged baby Triceratops.