Ankyra Sound she speaks with a voice that sets men trembling

the brown-grey dog was the first to earn shardik's full attention. an attention that called death as its' warrant. his grim jowls pulled up to reveal grim teeth; grim executioner; endless flames permanently extinguished by the clutch of his snout. lives swallowed in a single clap.

then, dogs everywhere. small roaches trickling from dark crevices. a black one, a red one - shardik watched their arrivals with indefatigable bemusement. there was no such thing as a male grizzily bear outnumbered, and this the beast knew with certainty. proud and stupid dogs. short-lived. small. beasts of no purpose save shardik's ruthless amusement. he would enjoy devising their ends, playing the needle in their unraveling. with lips purled at the challenge shardik advanced, blood-hunger in his unsettling gaze.  in a smooth movement he rose to his full height whilst his powerful forearms dragged his flank, a monolith among ants; true bedlam in towering mortal form.

a roar shuddered the corridors of his throat as he stood upright, spittle flying in lengthy gobs from his cavernous maw by the sheer force of the bellow. shardik's black eyes trained on the first to defy him - a dog that would soon taste ruination at the ends of his long claws.

his roar was the last warning the beast gave to leave before he lumbered towards her -- the powerful sweep of both forearms given in successive scythes designed to dissever whatever wolf approached him. each sweep a bludgeoning arc, claws reaching to ream sinew from hide and release the sweet tumult of unstemmed blood for any dog still standing around after his war-drum bellow.

shardik had the advantage of having an enormous range in which to strike down any approacher -- he could kill easily with the swipe of a single paw without ever jeopardizing his body. the wolves had very little recourse outside of close combat and would have to forfeit their safety if they wished to land any blow to his pelt. he knew this, and would fight accordingly - never exposing hock, never leaving an opening in which they could approach without clawed rebuke. any creature that attempted to charge his form would be effortlessly smacked down like a moth between two hard and unyielding hands.

they could run, and the beast would enjoy the chase -- but if the small band of dogs attempted to chase him from the realm he had taken, they would find their tether to life abruptly severed; an extinction event exacted at the calamitous hands of a godless bear.