Two Rivers Isle spikeroog

As he tumbled, the stranger was on top of him as swiftly as he could be. Smokestep could feel his limbs reaching out and scratching against the body that was attempting to be forced on top of him. The other male had tried to get a hold of the pirate's muzzle. He was successful on one of his snaps, latching to the top of the ghost's mouth. Snarling, the seafarer threw his head back and ripped the flesh along the bridge of his muzzle. Blood beaded there and began to trickle down through his dark whiskers. He rolled once more and found ground beneath his feet, staggering to a standing position. Both eyes were locked tight on his opponent.

Smokestep had managed to latch his teeth to the other male's leg as he had been knocked prone. Once Troy had put teeth on the pale wolf's muzzle, he had released his hold on the limb. Now he faced the other wolf with wild quill-like hairs that stood along his neck and shoulders. Yellowed fangs were glinting against the sun. His lip remained curled to reveal that he was not going to let this brute in on another attack. His long legs held him steady against the ground. He could taste the metallic tinge in his own blood as he drew his tongue across his lips.