Two Rivers Isle spikeroog

Detached from each other, the blonde stood defensively with his legs firmly rooted to the ground, his own muzzle twisted into a bloody snarl.  The winter air was prying into his wounds with cold and hurtful fingers as blood pooled between his whiskers.

He remained steadfast, letting out another mighty bellow.  You done yet?  Had enough?  His short tail whipped madly, hackles raised as he shook out his "mane".