Golden Glade Its not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog

A thread as promised @Goliath XD

The heat.

That was all she could think about as she trudged along the border. It was by the fault of her winter pelt refusing to shed that had her nearly burning up. Yet it was also the suns fault, for parting the clouds with its rays on this spring day. These pesky thoughts were cast aside as she gave way to her more feral instincts, those that felt the need to claim what belonged to her pack. 

She prowled steadily along the territory line, marking as she went. She only paused briefly to stand under the shade of their trees before heading out again. She was tense, knowing that a pack lie nearby along with the burst of loners that swept through the Wilds. Her sunset eyes scoured the land, analyzing each track and print and tucking the knowledge away for later useage. She would contribute to the pack, but how, that was what she did not know.

Ehm, I imagine Feyre would spot him attempting to sneak in? Also sorry for crappy post, I need to get back to writing properly.

Goliath had been roaming Teekon Wilds ever since his banishment from Drageda. He travelled around the Sunspires and lived off of the fruits of the flatlands and preyed the rivers. Hiding from other wolves and thus any help, the once large supply of fat  that once covered his flesh transformed into a mix of muscle that developed his stature into a more rugged, blubber-like flesh- one of the most important traits that helped him survive for such a long period alone. The 4 largest cuspids which lined his fangs and were once thick and dull became sharp and curved.

He had been finally arriving into the Tuktu Hinterlands, following the legs of the Alpine Lake, preying on the variety of fish that inhabited the small streams that led to Cricket Creek bog. Warm weather finally arrived, making it a problem for someone with his bulk, so standing perched above the stream with his legs in the water was one of the best ways for him to cool down.

He had been busy chasing a specific smallbass that had escaped his grasp and dodged it's fate several times. It was only when he reached the stream's fingertips and finally cornered the fish did he notice he had begun to tresspass into a pack's territory. 

Normally, he would recede back. Any and all interactions he had previously with the packs he had encountered were hostile, but something compelled him. He had never smelled this pack before, perhaps it was new- or just distant, but he knew that deep into their grounds must have been a reserve- easy food, and he would only need to barrage through any guards that defended the borders.

He trodded slowly towards the Golden Glade forest, keeping his giant muzzle to the ground, and his thick legs tense to sprint- hoping that he would not get caught.

What are you talking about, your post was good! :)

Her stride was steady, pushing her lithe form forwards past every tree and fern that she had become familiar with over the past week. Her ivory muzzle lifted into the air. This scent. Distinctly male, and unmistakeably foreign. This was not a male from her pack, she scowled, this was a loner.

She prowled forwards, her maw brushing the ground as she followed his earthy aroma. When the smell became remarkablely stronger she paused, looking up form her crouched position in the tall grass of the forest. A huge, hulking stranger was padding along the creek edge. A shiver ran through her blood as she gathered every last piece of her confidence.

With a sharp snarl and a few choice words, she leapt from the brush. Him on one side of the brook, and her on the other. She felt her haunches rise and her ivory pelt stand on end. Her form reeked of dominance, even though she stood across from a man who easily doubled her feminine size. Her words were sharp as a dagger when she spoke, "Why are you here?"

Goliath stopped mid-walk, a sharp noise pierced the air. It came from a wolf, that much he knew, but he did not understand what most of the words meant- he had been depraved of social contact for nearly 4 entire months, and that had taken an extreme toll on his already nearly-completely vacant vocab.

He turned his collosal head towards the direction of the sound, and saw a single female on the other side of the rill. The gap was minimal, with a single strained stride Goliath could probably move over there, judging purely on the width of the stream.

Instead of doing that, however, which would make most of his ribcage vulnerable, he simply reeled back his dark lips into a snarl, showing off every single one of his fangs up to the mangled, gigantesque molars at the back of his jaw. He puffed up his chest, and lifted his head high enough to look down on the gal- his thick stunted nose only detected a stronger fragrant of the pack- she reeked of them.

A low, guttaral sound emerged from his chest, rolling it's way to his fangs- a deep, distorted growl. If he could scare the petite off, it would be best for both of them.

He was huge. The closer she came to the babbling creek, the more dwarfed she felt. Perhaps this was not the best idea, but she had to protect their land. She felt herself grow to her full height, still smaller than him by far. Despite his size, he did not seem to be that intelligent. It was almost as if her words did not register in his brain. She could use this against him.

He snarled at her, showing off his deadly canines with pride. Her heart dropped, but she deigned to show fear. Instead, Feyre's amber eyes narrowed to mere slits as she stared him down, analyzing him like a predator about to take down its prey. This was going to be a challenge, but there was no way in hell he was staying on this land any longer.

His rasping growl came out with fierce intent. Was he seriously trying to make her leave? Her jaws snapped together sharply as a dark rumble tore through her diaphram. Her eyes were now clouded with aggression, warning him away. 

With slow, calculated steps, she padded nearer to the water. With each step, her tail lifted higher behind her and her ears pulled tighter to her skull. There was no way she was going to lose an ear in this fight. When she spoke, her words dripped with bloodlust, "Does it really have to be this way? Can you not just move along?" One last chance.

Once they begin to spar, would you want to make a dice-roll thread?

Instead of backing away, the lady did something qute unusal, and started walking towards him. Perhaps his form of communicating that he was a danger was unclear, or she actually believed she could take him on.

He squinted his eyes, taking a closer look at the female that dared to approach him. She was tiny in comparison, his tremendous size would surely be his biggest advantage against such a elfin opponent.
She attempted to tell him something, but the only words he understood in some manner were 'way' and 'move'...

He would have believed she was trying to guide him if she didn't have such a hostile expression, and Goliath removed any peaceful intent in his collosal skull.

Relying purely on his instinct, he swung his giant maw towards her direction, and snapped his jaws shut in the air inbetween them, a loud snap ringing in the air a few seconds after his mock-bite; a final warning to let him move deeper, and save his strength for the stronger guards that must have dwelled closer to the heart of the forest.

Just threw up a dice roll thread for us!

The sharp crack of his jaws slamming together nearly made the fae jump out of her skin. Though she attempted not to appear frightened, her facade of confidence slipped just barely. Guessing that was his way of responding to her words, she snarled at him. Such disrespect, on her territory. No. There was no way he was allowed to go any further than he already had.

Slowly, but surely, she stepped towards him. One paw in front of the next, she stepped ankle deep into the water. Emerging on the opposite bank, she began to circle the large male, who appeared even larger up close. With every step, her keen eyes pierced him. This was not going to be easy.

Short combat post!

Goliath had enough, he had warned her far too many times.
Rearing his head back for a split second- he lunged in for an attack, pouncing over the stream towards her. Fangs born and paws reeled, he came barrelling fowrwards....

and missed.

Instead of tackling her in the fashion that he desired, he overestimated his stream-jumping abilities, and fell chin-first onto the bank. Shuddering as he heard a loud CLACK underneath him as his lower jaw uppercutted his fangs.

Quickly rushing out of the stream, he prepared himself for retaliation by the female...

Same! Basing it on my roll

He was large, she gave him that, but the brute was far too slow for her agility. With swift feet, she doged his attack, sending him barelling towards the water. The crack of his jaws nearly made her cringe, but she was too focused on the task at hand to care.

Leaping across the water and onto his back in a fluid movement, she sank her teeth into his hulking shoulder. The bite was not enough to permanently maim, but it must hurt.

Grinning in triumph, as her hit had landed, she leapt off of him in an attempt not to risk her own injury. Landing on the bank, she turned to face him, assuming he would try to attack once more.