The meager meal he had made of the decomposing possum was hardly enough to bed his appetite -- if anything, it only served to rouse it. Since his encounter with the tan dog, he had skirted all forms of animals -- electing instead to travel without company.

He had just returned from a rounds near the dog-pack's established rendezvous site when he scented a peculiar not-dog scent on the breeze. It would be foolhardy not to investigate, so investigate the male did -- until his efforts were rewarded by the captivating sight of a reclining female.

He hung back, tentative -- his brow furrowed as he watched the female. She seemed tranquil, at ease. Above all, well fed. Before he decided to approach her, he would watch her a while -- unsure if she was as savage as the other wolves he had come across.

He waited, quiet under the shade of a snow-laden conifer. His ears perked when Outlaw approached him, and he delved a gentle pat in the snow with his tail in greeting. All benevolence on his countenance dissipated when a bold male crossed his vision -- one that reeked distinctly of death ... and Junkyard Dog.

With a roar he was upon his tender feet and hurdling towards the dark wolf, his jaws split and ropy gobs of drool streaming behind him. While it may have appeared to Osprey that the dog was defending her honor, it was not so -- Dogmeat's vicious onslaught was only because he had detected faintly his comrade's blood upon the wolf's pelt.

Within a few gargantuan strides the behemoth dog was upon the wolf, his teeth exposed and aiming for flesh -- he hoped to seize the wolf by his scruff and tear him down, rip his skin asunder and besplatter the fresh snow with his crimson blood.

Having spent the entire of his life in misery, it was befitting Dogmeat was an expert at doling it out. As he barreled towards the wolf and made contact with the wolf's flank, he was met by the barring of teeth and the visceral flash of pain -- pain that fueled him, pain that angered him.

Burke's teeth were worthy assailants, and served their purpose well. The cream of his pelt was quick to flush with dark and ominous red -- the pain was enough to cause Dogmeat to falter, but only for a second. Burke had released his clutch on his tender flank and Dogmeat, revitalized by impact, sought to crush his opponent downwards while he was distracted by Outlaw's approach.

With a guttural grunt the male shouldered himself downwards with a colossal heave, hoping to flatten the wolf as his neck was outstretched and pin him -- his teeth sought scruff (the same as before) and if he met his mark he would refuse (or try his damnedest) to release the struggling wolf. It was clear that Dogmeat had every intention of committing this wolf to death's fold, and unless Burke fought tooth and nail Dogmeat would see to it that Burke joined the dismal flock he had so carefully tended to.

Dogmeat fell into silence, working alongside his comrade in the punishing cold, his breath working the frosty air in billowing heaves -- the powder of snow beneath their quarreling feet brought forth to fall to the earth again in gentle quiet.

But not all was quiet -- the three worked in a vicious tandem. The flash of teeth and limb raked the air and below them dark red sullied the pristine snow. He was wounded, and his stamina was slowly waning -- but he could not relent. Not when the odds were for once in their favor. With Outlaw besides him, Dogmeat felt certain of their victory.

As Burke swung his muzzle towards Dogmeat's hind, Dogmeat was still trying his best to floor the wolf. While the wolf was taller and certainly of a more feral build, Dogmeat possessed a heavy-weight build he would use to the best of his advantage. Burke's teeth were searing, in the keen manner of a hot knife -- Dogmeat found his balance compromised. To counter the wolf's action he tried his best to spring forward and barrel the wolf over to flatten him, using his own momentary unbalance to stagger the wolf. Given Burke's lowered position, combined with the slight off-balance position one must take to reach Dogmeat's hind leg, Dogmeat was assured he would have some sort of success. He kept his grip on the wolf's scruff as best he could, his savage jowls working to grind flesh to hamburger and his neck wringing back and forth as he plowed forwards in the hopes to unbalance the male and force the wolf to release his grip upon his hind leg.

Burke's teeth around his leg caused a pain Dogmeat had not experienced before -- a pain which fueled him to become a frenzied bulldozer intent on destroying his assailant.