Whitefish River Life Itself

He takes in a deep breath, attempting to swallow the lump forming in his throat. How serious can he be, going against a packmate? His round ears flicker, and he follows the guidance with hesitation. Curling around the ring, he stands with his blind side pointing away from Reiko. It would do him little good if someone small and agile gets underneath him. He has experience fighting with smaller targets, due to the endless play spars with Thistle.

It makes his heart ping, and he tries to put himself in the mindset of serious instead.

Good luck, the bear says, just as softly. He aligns his neck with the tops of his shoulders, allowing him to better guard his throat. Eve trails along the circle, approaching with his blind side still pointed to the outer perimeter. The sand effects his balance, for he must step different than if the terrain were solid. It gives them good practice.

Abruptly, he charges forward, attempting to keep his balance with his toes spread and tail swaying to counteract. He tries to plow into the left side of Reiko, jaws grasping for the top of her scruff.