Swiftcurrent Creek cowpoke

She held his flank, scoring teeth to it and tearing fur and flesh. Another scar, it seemed but he wasn’t about to give way to her. The pain was searing, red hot and he used this to fuel him further.

Not when his own fangs dug to her ribcage. If this were a game of chicken, he would have placed money on himself—and at the roar of the spitter nearby, his gaze caught sight of Arric, a force, but still outnumbered. 

And so, stocky and large, Akavir would make an attempt to pull the grey whe-wolf to his advantage and knock her into the little red wolf.

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