The Heartwood Slowly tears you apart

sólhárr's grip was ironclad, his jaws locked firmly on the buck’s backside. the muscled creature thrashed beneath him, each desperate motion threatening to unseat him, but he held fast, his weight pressing into the beast like an anchor. he could feel the sinew and strength of the animal beneath his teeth—a worthy foe, a true challenge.

the white tundra wolf moved with precision on the other side, his pale pelt a ghostly blur against the chaos. sólhárr noted how the man’s fangs flashed in and out of view, tearing into the buck’s side with a ferocity that matched his own. together, they had forced the beast into a deadly dance, its powerful hooves pounding against the earth in a frantic rhythm.

the buck reared again, its crown of sharpened antlers slicing through the air. sólhárr released his hold for a moment, shifting his weight to avoid the dangerous tines. he landed lightly, circling the beast as it twisted to face both wolves, its nostrils flaring, sides heaving with effort. blood seeped from its wounds, staining the forest floor beneath them.

he fights well, sólhárr growled low, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. his oceanic eyes flicked briefly to the tundra man, a glimmer of respect there. but he did not linger—his focus was sharp, fixed on the buck as it prepared its next move.

with a quick glance, sólhárr signaled to his hunting partner, a subtle motion of his head. he lunged again, this time aiming for the buck’s shoulder, his intent to drive it further off balance. the fight was far from over, but he could feel the tide beginning to shift in their favor.