Wapun Meadow the nasty words of a hateful song

the spar was over; merrick's slender jaws had given a valiant defense, but now he found himself below the tiger, scarred features fluted with warm breath that tasted of his own fur. 
he had not at all minded the loss, he found; how could he suspect a blow to his ego when donovan filled all his senses? merrick blinked slyly up toward the striped warrior, tilting his own chin beneath the burning smile upon those weighty jaws.
"no doubt you could make such worthwhile." lower paws flexed; he could bring up his legs and cast off the beast, but for what reason? a grin sparkling upon the teeth well-oiled with blood in the boy's harshened young life.
intentional, that, and intentional the shift of himself beneath donovan, a settling of figure to form, an invitation to the tableau of their alliance that the warrior had made for them.