Ouroboros Spine For the Love of the Game (IC Joining)

The other melted easily beneath her weight, falling and tucking and revealing her stomach to Tonravik. Her wolves, Kroc and Echelon, and while Echelon lashed forward to attempt to pinch the skin of Syn, Tonravik moved to put a foreleg possessively, dominantly, over her, baring her fangs as her snarl heightened in its pitch as the other spoke. How close they were to a ledge that could send the other to her death. If anything went wrong, that was what they would do. Her tail was held loftily over her hindquarters, saliva oozing from the corners of her lips.

There was little preventing Tonravik from forcing the wretch over the ledge now. It was evident she humored it when she looked toward the cliff, and back to the babbling, confounded wolf. Her own rage built within her. Tonravik snaps savagely at the others face, and thinks of a better use for the other. She would stay. Tonravik quiets, but her face remains frozen in that horrifying snarl. "You trespass." Tonravik flicked an ear to give the others pause for a moment. Her intense stare demanded the other stay, belly-exposed, where she was, else she would surely face death.