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

While Artaax had succeeded in protecting his throat, he had failed in avoiding taking any damage. His opponent seized the flesh of his shoulder and the boy felt teeth tearing into his skin like hot knives. The scent of his own blood flooded his nostrils as his snarl intensified. He twisted his head as a paw was lifted and jabbed at his chest in a move that hurt, but did little to incapacitate him. He shoved into the other male, trying to knock him off balance as his jaws parted and he reached towards the side of his attacker's neck.