Horizon Ridge the lotus-eaters

As she wheeled about him, grasping the fur of his scruff and pulling away, she heard his stabbing words. The fur she spat out with a cant of her head, but there was no verbal response to his cajoling. The obnoxious little gnat of a man seemed to be eager for a beating, and Basilie was eager to oblige.

The pale wolf set himself up poorly with his positioning, as if to invite her close. There was a very brief moment of doubt prior to Basilie plunging in close, but it was ignored - this brute was smaller than her, and apparently less trained going by his dreadful skills, and he was not a wolf of Rome; this final fact put her ahead of him by breeding alone. The blood of warriors coursed through her veins.

So she dove in. Her head was ducked to protect her throat at first, but when she saw an opening - the rather obvious opening he presented - she took the bait. Her teeth slid through fur once more and were eager to sink in and tear the skin beyond.