Overture Downs I smell your fear, I smell your fear

Rakk, for whatever unknown reason, was possessed with the urge to fight his follower. He didn't like to be chased down like some deer awaiting carrion status, it seemed. He rose up and pivoted, coming down on the earth-man with paws battering his face.

Idiot, he is now unbalanced and left his underside open for attack.

Her let a snarl ripple through him like a glacial river as he brought teeth down upon the man, though they barely raked through earthen scruff.
To an onlooker, it may seem the sky and earth had met to lock in mortal combat, yet neither the sky could never touch the ground with a great deal of harm. Yet the Earth could render the sky a mere memory for it can trap and conceal all that found their way beneath the surface.

So, the storm cloud reigned down on the earth, snapping with harmless teeth and great batterings and flailings of paws, creating a tremendous racket. Snow fell upon the two, fingering sweeps finding their way through the tree bones to settle and coat their furs, only to melt and run off, making the pair damper as they went on.
The fool refused to stop, not letting up until he inevitably got injured.
Then, his cowardness would return.