Bearclaw Valley some kind of nature, some kind of soul

PP/injuries discussed via PM.  :)

He may not bow, but that was not what Merrick wished of him - but he would scream.

Venamis would make sure if it.

Driven by all the anger and hurt he'd harboured for almost his whole life, the world around him was blurred grey and white. His target stood shakily before him on three wearied limbs, having somehow gathered the energy to pull himself upright, and eyes of alabaster held him firm in his stare.

A collision came fast, fangs finding purchase on a shoulder thrust his way. He bit down hard, a new determination to not let go as he attempted to shake his head violently, when the other's teeth sank into the tender flesh at the base of a tufted raven lobe.

Venamis released his hold to yowl in pain, moved to yank his crown free from the rogue's grasp, which resulted in the sickening tear of an ear. Blood spilled fast from severed vessels, obsidian cheek and throat promptly made slick, but this did not deter. He swung around to snap at his opponent's muzzle and missed, so pinned a higher aim with every intention of delivering a ferocious attack to the side of his face.