Silverlight Terrace I told it not, my wrath did grow

What the younger of the two rapscallions lacked in bulk, he made up for in sheer speed. Kavos' recovery time was too fast for the dark yearling to take full advantage of him, and instead nipping his shoulder, he wound up mouth to mouth with his opponent as their game of throwing their weight at each other briefly turned into a wicked little spar of jaws and teeth.

It wasn't in the nature of wolves to draw blood in this manner— not when there was a mutual understanding between both parties that they were only seeking a victor between them, not violent retribution. Even with his lack of integration, the feral child knew instinctively that he didn't want to taste this wolf's flesh. A bout of wrestling would be just fine; and the boy's heart leapt suddenly, not quite realizing that he was having fun.