Fox's Glade feel the fear in my enemies' eyes

With so little distance between them that the other’s breath could be felt fanning out over his skin, involuntary trembles ran through the yearling’s body. He tried to fight it, to hold in his fear and swallow down his nerves, only to fail and leave a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Each word left him struggling more and more to maintain some degree of composure, hardly able to keep himself from breaking apart right then and there. And yet, he kept himself held together, however poorly, the childish, egotistical part of him preventing the Inuk from being so terribly affected that one might think Cicero had won. For that would add on to his disgrace, and possibly push him passed some point of return. So, Alexander held on, allowing but small portions of fear to seep through all of the cracks in his armour.

The final threats rang through his ears, echoing in his mind whilst his ears were laid flat against his head. He could not look at him, nor could he utter even a single word in response. All he could do was lay there, waiting for whatever was to come, and then felt a great deal of relief after being freed. That relief, however, was quickly overshadowed by his inner turmoil. Thus, the moment Cicero’s back had turned, out spewed the male’s earlier meal, followed by a long moment of dry heaving. Anxious and terrified, he scrambled back up to his feet immediately after and turned tail, fleeing in the direction of the valley. So many words lingered on the tip of his tongue, so many insults and threats that he wanted to shout, but for now all he could focus on doing was finding somewhere safe to lay low and regroup, for surely their next encounter would not go so smoothly for his attacker.