Ravensblood Forest only a fool would make martyrs from heathens

the dice are so fickle :weary:

Their spar fell quickly into silence as Donovan lunged back after them. Whatever he was doing, safe to say Renard wanted no part in it; they whipped back around like a snake feeling a paw tread upon its tail, expecting to be presented with Donovan’s side, only to find the man with both paws planted squarely on the dirt, clearly awaiting Renard’s next move.

They could have stopped if they wanted. Even sounded like the smarter move. But, you know…much more interesting to do it this way.

So Renard went hurtling right towards him without hesitating. Jaws yawning wide, coming up on their back legs at just the last moment to grip the side of Donovan’s neck. They knew from personal experience that it was more loose flesh and fur there than anything potentially dangerous, and this was just a spar, but they locked their jaw in and yanked a little, rolling the same playful growl out of their throat as when they’d pulled the deer apart back on the coast.