Bearclaw Valley Clash of kings

d: 8; a:20 crit hit

Cole didn’t have time to fully regain his footing before Tvar barreled into him with relentless force. The hit landed squarely, the impact reverberating through Cole’s chest as he stumbled back, paws sliding over the snow. A sharp growl tore from his throat, pain biting through his ribcage where Tvar’s weight had driven him.

But retreat wasn’t in Cole’s nature.

Not bad, he grunted, voice strained but laced with a gritty determination.

His eyes sharpened, amber blazing as he assessed the opening Tvar had left in his charge. With a burst of adrenaline, Cole pushed off the snow, his powerful frame lunging forward in a sudden surge. He twisted sharply, aiming low, his shoulder slamming into Tvar’s side with all the weight he could muster.

The impact was precise, a well-timed strike meant to unbalance the larger wolf. As Tvar faltered, Cole’s jaws snapped upward, targeting the thick scruff at the base of Tvar’s neck. He didn’t clamp down harshly, but his grip was firm, his strength clear as he sought to assert his dominance in the spar.