Dragoncrest Cliffs around here, it's just another saturday night.

Artaax's movements guided Atshen's fangs, directing them to the more-tender flesh along his flank. Realizing that he had been bested, the male growled as he dug his fangs deeper into the other's shoulder. Though holding on would put Atshen at a disadvantage, he bypassed any logic and did just that. While fastened into position, in an attempt to bring more pain to the other, Atshen weakly jabbed a paw in the direction of the other's chest with every intention to knock the wind out of him. 

Unfortunately for Atshen, he lacked the power to do any major damage with his punch.