Ankyra Sound dog-eat-dog

@Svalinn (challenge thread) :)

Vaati awakes that morning to find the decision made for him -- he will take what he desires before the day is up. Or, he will attempt to. Waiting patiently until a few hours before the sun was due to set, he once more considers the weight of his intent for that evening. Should he win, he was likely to be much more expected of him. Should he lose, there would be no other option but to try and try again before he earned the title he eyed.  Either way, he could not accomplish much by waiting idly to ascend up the ranks, it was simply not his style. Vaati had learned long ago that he would be offered very little in life without an ulterior motive, and if he wanted something, it was he who needed to take it.

He releases a howl summoning the gamma, someone that he does not know but seeks to take their place. It is not a personal matter, but one of necessity to solidify superiority. Vaati is not meant to lie dormant at the bottom for it is not in his nature to allow it -- something he cannot change. Hackles raise instinctively as his ears stand erect; an automatic response to the feeling of an impending clash of teeth and claw.

Though he had recovered by now from the violent ordeal up on the cliffs above, Svalinn had been irrevocably changed by the experience. Physically, he now had his own battle scars: tooth-marked all along his forelimbs and across the broad set of his golden hindquarters. Mentally, the boy had hardened, aware now of things like his own mortality and the fleeting life of others. He couldn't bear to think of all the what-ifs, or alternatives to how things had turned out, so he had focused wholly on returning to peak condition, and soon whatever grudges he'd held over the situation were gone altogether. Several weeks more had gone by in relative quiet, so he was not expecting the challenging summons, and considering he had never been challenged before, he approached the silver-ghost caller with a most inquisitive nature than a wary one.

Upon arrival the boy stood back, wisely keeping his distance from one of their newest recruits, which wasn't his typical prerogative, but he was used to being the instigator— not the instigated— so he exercised a measure of caution with the behemoth. Save for his own youthful lankiness, he rivaled the titan in size, something Svalinn himself wouldn't have noticed, given that he had been raised and whipped by a she-wolf half his size; a fact that made him feel smaller than he actually was. But this could not compare to the other's apparent battle-worth— with a layer of adult musculature and three times as many scars.

Svalinn swallowed dryly and cocked his head slightly at the male. "Yeah?" he asked, straight-forward but unable to mask his uncertainty in that moment.

The other does not take long to arrive, and Vaati observes perhaps too intently the frame he possesses, enough rival Vaati’s own. A part of him had hoped the stranger would be somewhat puny, in which he could easily snap up the title he desired without breaking more than a sweat. Yet, another sizeable fraction of him anticipated greedily the equal battle that was bound to ensue, for based on physicality, neither seemed to hold an upper hand. However, size was hardly ever a reliable indicator of power — Caiaphas stood as a prime example of just that. 

He does not beat around the bush in response to the other’s wary inquiry, eyes trained like daggers towards the others gaze. “I desire your rank. Surrender it or I will take it from you.” Vaati feels no need to add on the specifics of what he intended to do at that moment, allowing the ripple of a bite-ready maw to speak for itself. But in his tone he holds very little semblance of distaste towards the younger male. It is simply a matter of politics, rather than a vendetta of any sort — a rare thing for him to admit.

Surrender?

Svalinn blinked, trying quickly to adjust to the conditions of his first actual rank challenge, but as he came to terms with what was happening, or what was about to happen, the golden vandal began to smirk in the face of his very serious opponent. He could care less about his numerical standing in the pack, but he absolutely wouldn't pass up the chance to spar. "Take it," he barked back, lunging open-mouthed and gleeful at his opponent.

But unfortunately for him, he didn't necessarily understand that Vaati had not come here just to fuck around with him. Svalinn treated the whole thing like a game and got soundly whooped because of it— realizing rather quickly (or belatedly, depending on how you look at it) that this wasn't a practice anything. It felt more like that time up on the cliffs...

Svalinn shrieked his resignation as Vaati got a hold of his ruff, and relented his rank to the explicit victor of their fight. Once released, the boy scampered away, presumably to tend to his wounded pride by calling Vaati mean names behind his back.