Blackfeather Woods to thirst, to crave

There was no satisfying squish in his maw, just blood and some flesh as his opponent tore himself away from their deadly embrace. Taking this moment to take a step back and gather himself, Rosencrantz stood and matched the other's pacing as they circled each other. It was now he was able to take a good look at his assailant, should they both survive this Rosencrantz was certain he would remember this fucker's face. 

Whatever he had left of his ear, he flattened both protectively. With hackles raised, a rolling growl exploding from his throat with a matching snarl, and tail sweeping lower, he protected anything at this point that he could all the while trying to pick out any kind of opening from this man. He wouldn't, he couldn't turn his back on this guy yet, he needed a window of oportunity first if he decided leaving was the best option - and frankly, it was.