Ravensblood Forest blood splatter in the air

Fresh with no battle wounds himself, the Wayfarer thinks he has the advantage against the large feline. The goal is to chase her off, to make her existing injuries worse if need be. He stands his ground, growling back in an answer to her own. His tail remains held high, and the Wayfarer makes a move with the whip of hers.

Charging forth, he aims for the lioness’ wounded side—perhaps obvious but she would no doubt favor it, yes? Should he be successful, he would barrel his weight into her with agape jaws going for the top of her spine to latch, rip and tear.