Redsand Canyon down and out over the mount

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The sharp taste of iron in his mouth-- his stomach rolls and clenches. Her fur tickles the back of his throat. He manages to slip away from Finley's hold on his arm, and as she draws back, he does too.

They circle the ring, pupils dilated, their pulses roaring in their ears. The low and aching noise of a tide rushing in, dragging out. His lungs squeeze with the effort. Squinting through the kicked up sand, he rushes back in with a grunt, ears swept back and hackles raised, mouth half-open. His teeth flash in the garish summer sun as he aims to grab her chin. Sweat rolls down his neck, crawls down his forehead. He blinks it away, but he is acutely aware of the saline sting.