Two Rivers Isle Tennis makes me so mad!! Why doesn't anyone catch the ball!?

Please read the bottom of my profile for threading with Mr. Peanut Butter! THANKS!

He’d been running for a few days now, chasing after those deer. Of course, they’ve been long gone but they’re just right around the corner. He can FEEL it. Yessiree.  Then he can take one home and show his people, whom he hasn’t seen in a few days now. That’s kinda worrisome… yeah.
 
The dog picks his head up, ears flopped over but erect, and he scents the air as if he knows what he’s doing. Mr. Peanut Butter is no hunting stock but he’s seen them! He knows he’s supposed to do something but that something isn’t all that obvious. He’s hungry, too. How long has it been since he ate? A long time.
 
He licks his lips a bit, coming to a stop at the bank of a river. WATER! Excitedly, he bounds into the wake and splashes through to the other side. It’s a bit strong but he’s a strong boy, a good boy! And he easily makes it to the other side, shaking out his fur this way and that, and then puts his wet nose to the ground to try and find anything else.
 
Ooo! Deer droppings. Yum.
 
After an afternoon snack, he’s ready to go!

Roll here!

He was cranky to say the least. He hadn't snagged much sleep through the day and know he was restless, awake with the light present. It was a rare sighting and for a good reason. Behemoth looked rough. His eyes sunken with loss of sleep. His fur was in wild tufts as he hunched over in a slightly aggressive-defensive position.

The figure of a strange creature (canine but very obviously not wolf) crashing through the water - in his direction - even further damped his mood. There is still plenty of distance between them but Behemoth is ready to put on a warning show. He lunges forward from his own position, hackles and tail flying up in a show of his wild prowess.

While he is not close enough to strike Behemoth likes to think his message is clear enough to the stranger that he doesn't need to use teeth. Get lost.

From this point, Mr. Peanut Butter doesn’t know where to go. Tracking isn’t his forte—he’s meant to retrieve but that usually follows after direction. When he spots another figure that’s very dog-like in shape, but bigger and… angrier… he knits his brows together and tilts his head, flopped ears perked excitedly. It must be a mistake and something is wrong! Certainly that anger is not directed at him. Maybe he lost the deer too.
 
Mr. Peanut Butter takes a few excited steps forward but the brute lunges forward, hackles rising. Instantly, his ears fall back and his own guard hairs freeze upward. He’d just been about to say something too!
 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa buddy!” he shouts, hesitant to get any closer. It’s like the big angry dog at the dog park. “I’m just looking for the deer I saw. Or uh, my owners too… have you lost yours too? What kinda dog are you?” he says, sniffing eagerly and inching closer, trying to get a whiff from where he stands, a little too afraid to shove his nose into someone’s butt with teeth.

He cackled, exposing his ivory teeth to the canine. No one owns me and I'm no dog. Behemoth had never encountered one in the flesh but he'd heard stories of them from a now long gone adventurous father. The ebony male considers if he can strike now or if he should chase him off, make the dog someone else's business.

As the other inches closer, so does Behemoth, but with more violence in his actions. His ivory teeth click in a sharp warning to the golden canine. He did not care what the other was doing here. He only knew he wanted them gone (just like the other sunshine-hued male). Now.

Mr. Peanut Butter blinks dumbly with a sharp tilt of his head. No owners? Not a dog? But he’s got a snout and ears and tail and four legs. Of course he’s a dog! He’s just lost and confused. Hmph. Still, he lunges at him with teeth but he is not yet deterred. Surely he’ll come around when he sees how nice he is! Mr. Peanut Butter has never done anything to make anyone mad (total lie, his dad was Very Mad when he ate his shoes. He’s just blocked that out of his mind!).
 
“Not a dog?” he says, disregarding the threats. He doesn’t move any closer. “Then what are you!”

His face crinkled with anger at the other male's oblivion. It was mildly frustrating and only further fueled on the ebony male's anger. Perhaps had he caught Behemoth at a better time, he would have done more toying. But he was already pushed out of his comfort zone. He was more than ready to fully strike now.

A wolf. Behemoth finally spoke with venom dripping from his tone as he briefly reared his head with his lip pulled back. His large ivory teeth were put on display as one final warning before making his lunge. His jaws parted as he aimed to latch onto some part of the dog. Preferably his neck or shoulder.

A wolf? Huh! He’s heard about them but he doesn’t know about them. He hadn’t realized they’d look very dog log. Maybe the bigger-ness and the mean-ness have something to do with it. Mr. Peanut Butter opens his mouth to say something, perhaps to ooo! and ahhh! but he has no chance. The speed of the wolf comes upon him quickly and he doesn’t have much time to react.
 
Before the wolf even gets to him, he retreats and yelps like a little puppy, trying to get away but teeth shred his shoulder. Eyes widen and he tries to snap at something, anything! to get him off and away but he’s never been in this situation. He isn’t a fighter! How DARE. Mr. Peanut Butter yelps and barks and growls all at once, pissing himself in the process as his chunky body tries to roll away from the other.

Behemoth feels teeth on his ear in retaliation and it's a reasonable reaction. The male is bored by anyone — anything — that doesn't fight back when attacked. At least the dog has enough sense in him to not just roll over because Behemoth likely would have made a meal out of him.

Although the scent of piss quickly fills the air and the male can't help but laugh. He had expected the strong scent of iron from blood, not piss. Disgusting. He spat with a sharp glare before he moved to slam his body into the yellow male's form. Perhaps he can bowl him right out of these lands.

Not realizing he’s pissed all over himself and the stranger, the other says something he doesn’t really listen to. When teeth separate from his shoulder, his only concern this time is to actually run. With the added slam of the other, he stumbles right to the ground with another yelp. Instantly, his tail tucks between his legs and he scrambles to his feet and, if left alone to flee, he darts off in whatever direction he can to get away.

He was successful in hitting the dog but the creature took off soon after meeting the earth. Behemoth gave chase for a few yards before tapering off to a stop. His sides heaved and he lifted his head, hackles and tail with pride. Hell yeah.

Now he had to go wash himself off of the mutty and pissy smell. Perhaps fit in a nap before darkness came.