Felltree Marsh black bridge

He would get his pound of flesh when she tears away from him unexpectedly. Only succeeding to injure her more as a piece of her stays clenched in his unforgiving jaws. He’d make a show of spitting it out, devilish eyes never leaving her retreating form. 

“Bet you wished you accepted that friendly spar now, huh?” He growls out to her, lapping the blood from his maw.

Only she gets him right back. Maybe he shouldn’t run his mouth so much when he fights because he could’ve rolled with her punches. Instead she’d bouncing around to his left, slicing at his limbs with a ferocity known to only those who are fighting for their life. 

At this point, she is.

The young hellhound would growl and exhale sharp breaths as she expertly bites at his legs all the while dodging his snapping jaws. Nicking him fairly well on his hind leg forced him to limp, hardly wanting to put weight on it for it shoots lighting up his joints and spine.

Instead, he’d twist around once more in her ever changing direction. He goes for her face this time, not so much as aiming for anything specific, but looking to grab whatever part of her he can.