Bearclaw Valley some kind of metal made up from glue

she goaded him so easily; his teeth only flared against the crook of her throat and then astara was sailing at him herself. her fangs then did scrape his cheek, and he seized away from her.
had he held back? he did not know. it felt as though shock were coursing merrick now, finally, a rivulet of blood leaking down his flesh. 
annoyance gave way to anger, and merrick snapped at the open air before bounding toward his blackbird again, swinging his hip into hers at the last moment with an attempt to knock her off small feet.
or bruise her.