Ankyra Sound a drop of hell, a touch of strange

the brute agreed to the spar after a moment of searching illidan's frame. sure, he was still relatively young, but the boy knew his own frame well enough to put use to it. firefly spun himself around and squared himself off. at that movement, the young ghost did what he could to appear ready for their false battle. he moved to position himself so that he faced the dark male and lowered his head to keep the tender portions of his neck protected from any attack that would take place. he knew that well enough; instinct told him to keep his throat out of the reach of any fang.

then, the boy sprung forward with all the grace of a tree-climbing horse. his lean frame was well-aimed, but he did not have much experience in his life to know well what to do. illidan aimed his teeth and claws for the only thing he could think to be an easy target: the scarred shoulder of the other male. there was no intention to actually harm his friend. he merely wanted to impress the sun-touched male.