Redtail Rise Let The Feast Begin

My luck is not with the rolls... got a whoppin' 2

Teeth and nape made contact, if ever-so.

Iron had never tasted so sweet, nor departed so quickly.

The man of advantage turned immediately upon sight of the opening, clenching a hard bite over the opponents shoulder.

A wince, merely. It was pain bearable for some, but not for all. Luckily for the raven, enough had been endured to render this a simple scrape.

Snarling back with immense fury and retaliation, the target was switched from the nape to the limbs. Even the slightest bite may aide in altering the man's directive. By this point, the raven was tiring and needed closure, regardless of who concluded.