Bearclaw Valley Clash of kings

“Can’t argue with that.”

He straightened, his tall frame rolling easily into a poised stance, muscles coiling beneath his thick pelt. Though his posture remained calm, there was a readiness in the way he shifted his weight. The invitation had been clear, and Tvar wasn’t one to decline a challenge, especially when it came from someone like Cole.

“Let’s see if you’re as sharp as you think,” Tvar added with a playful gnash of teeth. He stepped forward slowly, closing the distance, testing the waters.

He didn’t lunge immediately, instead sizing his opponent up, circling just slightly to gauge Cole’s reaction. He let his actions speak as he squared off, waiting for the moment to strike or counter, depending on what his packmate brought to the table.