Neverwinter Forest wash me clean off the land

d:12, attack misses; a: 13

sólhárr's attack sailed past, his momentum carrying him just off the mark. he grimaced, a flicker of irritation crossing his features, though it did little to deter him. catamaran’s retaliation was swift, jaws snapping dangerously close to his scruff. a lesser wolf might have been caught, but sólhárr twisted sharply, his muscles coiling with practiced grace as he sidestepped the strike.

he wasted no time. the momentary opening left by catamaran's missed grab was all he needed to launch his next move. with a powerful leap, sólhárr thrust forward, aiming to collide against the bounty hunter’s abdomen with his shoulder. it was a calculated maneuver, meant to shake the breath from catamaran's lungs and test his endurance.

the impact was uncertain—sólhárr’s eyes narrowed, gauging the outcome even as he prepared for whatever counter might come next. the dance of strength and strategy continued, neither wolf yet conceding ground.