Whitefish River i'll be your light, your match, your burning sun

He did not respond to her – instead, his brown eyes regarded her quietly.. thoughtfully. There was opportunity here – she was brazen, and in turn, she would pay for it. His previous assumption that she held some form of intelligence was soon swindled away as she sat down before him.. completely disarmed and uncaring.

Honor held a certain appeal – but it did not always win battles. And bringing back the severed head of the female before him would escalate him quite high in the ranks of Tonravik.. of that, he was certain. Fortunately of Ivitaruk, honor also held no basis when it came to survival of the fittest – it was a kill or be killed world, and it would seem the little snapdragon had yet to learn this.

So he rushed her. His muzzle slouched lower,, his jaws agape. His ears slid back to his skull to protect himself, while his forelimbs shifted outward for premium balance. She had foolishly even taken a step closer to him, leaving her even less of a chance to react to his attack, and while surprise and force were on his side, Ivitaruk rolled his shoulder outward toward the she-wolf to knock her from balance should she try to leap up, his jaws seeking to grasp her shoulder to slice her flesh and taste her blood.