Moonspear halfway to a donut

Harley's anger bubbled over in a feral snarl, and his sharp amber eyes burned. He would not be ignored, no, and he would not be mocked. The final straw was Lazarus turning his back on him, and challenging the silent charcoal male. Scorp, he called him. Nothing against him, but Harley didn't intend on letting the pale man just ignore him.
   "No!"
The wolfdog howled his own challenge, the only warning Lazarus go before the milky shephard was springing for his back. Such a forward attack, or any attack at all against this far more experienced male, was certainly foolish. Harley wasn't thinking past his rage, letting instinct drive his paws. Hopefully, he would be able to defend himself well enough to not get hurt by the larger purebred, maybe get a hit or two of his own in.