Wild Berry Meadow a golden crown

@Rollo

Not one to often travel from the woods, Atshen found himself within the meadows on a mission. It was amongst the dead vegetation that he rooted around, his eyes wide as she sniffed amongst the decay. Today he was attempting to look for more toxic materials, though, honestly, he wasn't quite sure just what to look for when it came to these plants. Using the mushroom he had discovered as his only basis, Atshen searched for anything that smelled as rank as the fungi had. 

Even the frost-bitten decay of the berry bushes affected the Silencer as the mushroom had. Atshen crouched before one and lowered his muzzle so that he could sniff along the roots of the plant, hoping that somehow he would find something as toxic as the mushroom.

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Rollo is unaccustomed to Arturo's land, and within the few hours he has arrived, he has departed again. It is the feeling of confinement, all too soon but just in the right time. He will get used to it, soon enough, once his alliegeince grows but for now he is on the fennce and on the fence he roams. But his path is cut short as a dark movement halts his path, eyes flickering in warning as he searches, locating the obstacle. Optics settle upon a boy much smaller than him but something, he feels, is not right, There is an air of danger about the other and a red light flashes in the back of his mind. But he cannot pass without crossing the other. So instead, he does what all threatened men do. The brute lets loose a low snarl, a warning. He does not need to ask the other of his intent, it is clear in each step, each seemingly fragile movement that the other is not something to be trifiled with, and yet, neither is Rollo. Something dark met with something dangerous was not a pair worth making should interests lie in self preservation, however, Rollo neither cared for his physical well being as his cerebral affections longed for pain. Perhaps it was the penance his demons demaned, regardless, he had little caution where his assurances in his superiority were definate. Rollo did not look for a fight, but he spectated it's beginings, for two men of power could not exist in such a close proximity without the other's acceptance of submission. He could not cross the other to continue his path without the slightest hint of tension, he knew, and therefore did not shy away. But for now, he waits in close proximity for an indication that the other means no ill will and that he can continue on his way.

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A growl drew Atshen's attention from the earth and to where the other man stood. Every inch of his being grew rigid as he picked himself up slowly and when he reached his tallest height, Atshen felt the hair along his nape spike. His mind processed his observations quickly as he looked to the larger male, sizing him up silently as he allowed a silence to settle between them. This man was bigger than him, but he wasn't concerned as he had already fought wolves larger than he was. The question that stood at the forefront of Atshen's mind was how skilled this wolf was in the art of fighting. This wolf appeared to have a fighter's build, a strong standing that would help him in combat, yet, Atshen had yet to know of just how this man fought. He collected his limited thoughts as he observed the older wolf carefully, yet, he did not drive his assault further. Instead, he opted to wait for and see how Rollo responded the Silencer's stance. 

There was no doubt in his mind that this would be resolved peacefully-- especially when the other man was so close to the woods. He could not allow himself to let this stranger pass and he would do everything in his power to protect his mother's lands. Letting out a growl of his own, Atshen replied to the other man's show of dominance with one of his own. He stood at full height and pulled his tail over his back, and he stood rigidly as if implying that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

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Rollo doesn't take shit from anybody. Perhaps, in another circumstance and in another personality, his ideal route would have been to simply avoid the other altogether, however, the brute of a man had many reasons not to turn away. Neither did Atshen, it seemed. Rollo was unaware of the pack that lied just beyond the dark boy, however, he was aware where his feet stood and was smart enough to know that this was not claimed land. Advancing further, Rollo mimics the stance that the other takes; unwavering. Gray eyes bore resilient into the other's, each placement of paw one infront of the other spoke nothing of stupidity but of entitement. Youth may be on the other's side, but experaince was something youth lacked, and Rollo would not walk away from neutral ground, no matter how close to home he lingered.

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How do you want to do this fight? Roll for each round? Or just play it out post-by-post?

It was evident by the other's body language that told Atshen that the stranger was not backing down in the clashing of their interests. Taking this fact to heart, Atshen drew forward boldly the other began to advance. It was a matter of time until their dangerous dance begin and Atshen teetered on the prospect of launching an attack. He watched in silence, carefully exmaining the weathered warrior.

Hit. Also, I'll edit this later ;)

Rollo snarls, advancing further and finally launching at the male. He feels the adreneline pumps through his blood as his heartbeats ring in his ears. He feels the savagery return to his movements, the buildup of his attack, and in that moment, he is anything but Rollo. He aims his jaws at the neck of the younger, the full weight of his mass within the surge of his attack. If he is sucessful, he will unbalance the other, plummel him to the ground and be on his way while the other reveled in his own demise. However, only his first shot was destined to land and he feels as the other crumbles beneath him, unparrallled in strength against the mass of the brute above. Endarkened triump meets his consious and his chest inflates, holding the soft of the other's nape within his teeth.

A miss for me!

 

Pent up aggression had lead Atshen to this moment, giving him an opponent who would meet said aggression justly. The surging momentum of mass doesn't surprise Atshen and instead allowed him the opportunity to brace for the other's attack. Pushing forth a hard shoulder in an attempt to block the other's attack, Atshen is then met with the first blow despite his efforts. Feeling the teeth of the other clamp down around his neck, the Silencer flinched as the strength behind the attack was driven. Given Atshen's nature, such strength would not he shied away from. Instead, the brute would meet it with his own. Feeling the other's attempts in imbalancing him, Atshen felt himself grow quickly rigid as he attempted to hold his own, all too preoccupied in doing this to even consider counteracting with an assault of his own.

Hit

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But the child is not without strength, and refuses to crumble beneath the man. In turn, Rollo clamps his jaw down harder, pulling in the soft flesh of the other's nape and abandoning his attempt at pushing the other down. If he does not have the strength to forcefully cause him to submit, he will submit to the pain, and that is good enough for the seasoned brute. But as he does so, tounge destined to eventually meet the taste of the other's blood, he cares little about winning at this point for his attack is sprung purely out of the desire to fight once more. It was his own thoughts that had so tied him down, left him slave to his own fears, but in that moment he was a warrior once again, not a man so terrified of what he might do in confrontation that he avoided the very thing at all turns. In that moment, he is a man of little restraint, and he finds that he cannot bring himself to dislike it.

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Miss for me!

 

The fangs of the stranger bring about a burning sensation upon the brute's nape. Not being a stranger to this feeling, Atshen does his best to ignore it for launching his attacks. Rollo has him held in such a manner that it 's hard for the white-bellied man to twist about and counter attack. Despite this, Atshen thrashes in an attempt to position himself so that he can attack. He isn't just sure how successful he will be in this, but, despite that, the Silencer is a man of very little thoughts-- carrying out his ambitions without considering the effects that it might bring about.

win4rollo

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The boy thrashes, and Rollo does not waver, his jaw locked around the tender flesh of the ego-manic teen is as unbreakable as his spirit, when called for it. Nothing escapes him, not the movement of the other nor the insolence of the younger. Rollo has him in prime position, and he knows this. It would be a foolish mistake to give it up, but yet again, he does not see the other accepting defeat without cause; it would take more than pain to bring him to his knees. So, Rollo tries once again to unbalance the boy, revving up and thrashing his head to the side and downwards in attempt to knock him off his feet, as if an invisible force was yanking him down to the earth. With all the weight of his mass does he do this, a force to be contended with as even though the boy is considerably bulked for his age, Rollo is bigger.

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Eventually, as Rollo had intended, Atshen was brought to the ground, surprised by the sheer force that had been delivered to his flank. Unable to oppose it, Atshen looked up to the platinum with fire in his eyes, snarling as he gave up the fight.

The boy snarls in defeat and Rollo snarls back, shaking the boy's neck within his mouth once before dropping his hold. But he does not stick around to gloat, in fact, the brute does not spare a glance at his victory before marching on. Atshen knows his defeat, and that is good enough for the man.