Ocean's Breath Plateau Tonight

This post has been consented to. Beware: PP abound! Also, Osprey may react now if she wishes; we just wanted to keep this relatively short/still interesting. Starr, message me darling, if you see something wrong.

The severe pinching against the back of Warbone's neck suddenly became less of show of dominance and more of an attempt to truly cause harm, and upon feeling the hot rivulets of his own blood trickle down his neck, the wolf grew exponentially vengeful. The brawler bucked his upper body, jarring his opponent's bite, and making it all the looser for his abrupt drop to the ground. The male came with him, razor teeth grasping to what bit of flesh and fur he could hold of his copper nape, but there was enough space between them now— and yet not an inch of room to escape— for Warbone's retaliation.

While relying on instinct and brute strength was typically enough to best his opponent, there were the rare occasions in which he needed to implement the techniques ingrained in him by the brutes of Tall Timbers in order to win. This was not the first time that the pride of his opponent had caused him to use them, and because he appeared particularly dim, he was easy to mistake for a wolf who knew only how to throw his weight around. The mistake always cost them.

His turnaround was at a snake's speed, and now that he was beneath Romeo, his upward strike landed in an unsavory spot for his adversary. His teeth clamped harshly on the base of his neck, then he adjusted fast, faster than the rattled wolf could swing and replace a firmer grip on him as he threw his rump sideways and put himself at a more perpendicular angle to the challenger. His adjustment allowed him to simultaneously replace his jaws from its previous position closer to his chest, to the spot where his neck met his skull, and his lower teeth pressed threateningly against the smoky wolf's jugular. Of course the endangered male tried to jerk away, but Warbone was bearing up on him, keeping him lifted and unbalanced on his forepaws, and the more pressure he applied down in an attempt to escape the grasp, the more pressure he was applying on his own windpipe.

Claws bore down on him aggressively as well, but they could not apply killing swipes to the wolf at his throat, and Warbone had him at a complete disadvantage. He could nearly control how he moved his head now, forcing it more sideways as he began to right his own body somewhat, leveling their bodies but not upping Romeo's chances of escaping without his neck torn. Warbone's intention was to eventually get him onto the ground, but it seemed unnecessary at this point. Warbone broke skin, thinly, but the new threat behind the set of his jaws seemed to be more than enough to eventually still his struggling opponent, heaving and alarmed but realizing that his stillness eased the pressure.

He might've needed to lie down, in order for Warbone to feel safe releasing him. But there was also his mate, who might not take kindly to what appeared her husband about to lose his life. He had no intention of taking a life today though. His libido was higher than his rage, and in the back of his head, he wanted to leave the area more than anything else— triumphantly, if he could. Hence the pause, the offer for the male to keep his life, if he stopped fighting his defeat.