Bearclaw Valley dancing with the devil

Evien had never met anyone who frustrated him like this. Assumptions and mocking and insanity that was driving the brown wolf wild with need. But need for what? To fight, to argue? Something else? Rage and excitement and apprehension swelled in his chest at Merrick's laughter, and he wanted to wipe the smile from his face. 

          Beautiful. Was he flirting, in a time like this? Was Evien flirting? The words made his ears hot, and he flattened them to his skull. "I've spent enough time choking on my own vomit to wish for it to happen to someone else," he contradicted - and it was true. But he did currently wish to see Merrick's blood splash on the ground. Not enough to kill, but enough that he might not be so cocky anymore. 

         He let Merrick slam into him, but this time did not back away. Instead, he scrabbled for purchase with paws and teeth - looking to grab hold and fight. Merrick could outrun him, for sure, but not if Evien had hold of him.