Redsand Canyon the ritual pyre's sending smoke to the sky

their jaws, snapping shut over where derg’s leg had been, put them in perfect position for his teeth to descend on their neck. they yanked themselves bodily out of the way, spinning in place, as an animal might turn after its tail was stepped on, and –

– found him. leg buckled awkwardly underneath him. eyes locked on his hind limb, renard paused to watch him, ears forward, even as the part of them that had built a career out of this, seeing the weakness, urged them to swoop in and finish the fight before he could regain his footing.

in any situation where this wasn’t a spar, they would have. but it was a spar, and this was their packmate, and, ah, less polite tactics should be saved for when they were needed. nor did they need to show all the cards in their hand.

“having trouble already?” renard teased him, but they waited until he had regained his footing before they circled and lunged in again, mouth wide and mirroring his earlier attempt to grip their scruff – this time to the feeling of fur and skin caught between their teeth.