Mount Everfall One great big festering neon distraction

The bitch watched him, mindful of her body language, but as he bowed in an age-old gesture Tûgar swept low with a growl that told of her next intent. She sprung toward him, feinting a blow to his open foreleg before withdrawing sharply, an eager light in her eye as she darted away only to keep herself out of reach from his fangs. She squared herself as best as she could on the precarious territory, licking her chops and letting out a series of barks fall rapidly from her lips to tempt him to movement. Her own voice was higher than the low intimidating barks their leader could produce, but it was no less daunting as saliva oozed and splayed from her lips. Aklark need not be afraid, but a stranger surely would be. Her sounds were meant to distract as she again surged forward, fangs looking to grab hold of anything in their reach, though not to break skin. In spars and even rank skirmishes, blood was never to be drawn. 'An eye for an eye' was taken quite seriously; even her own brother had fallen victim to this particular law, just though she felt it was.