You're a Villian Alright, Just Not a Super One.
Juggernaut
Professor
With a forceful grunt, Aresenn advanced, his dark red form a fearsome image against the lush greenery of the valley. His move was calculated, deliberate. Each footfall on the thawed tundra was purposeful and heavy, meant to send vibrations through the ground, to signal his power and dominance. His challenge was met with a growl from the coyote pack - a low, rancling chorus that reverberated amongst the tall cliffs of slate, its echo lingering ominously in the summer air. And with that, he lunged forward with outstretched paws and a splayed jaw.
Aresenn collided headlong into the lead coyote, sending them both rolling across the grass in a flurry of fur and snarls. His teeth sunk into the coyote's scruff, a raw, feral growl vibrating in his throat. His muscles strained against the thrashing body beneath him, an exquisite ache that pulsed with the rhythm of his heart. His claws dug through fur and into flesh, a satisfied grunt grating from deep within him as he felt the coyote squirm beneath his grasp.
The patrol had started off smoothly, but within no time they were being accosted by a pack of coyotes foolish enough to believe that because there was more of them, that they would be successful in their attempt. Dracun couldn't stop the half smile from curling onto his face as he watched his father make the first move towards the leader of the coyotes, quickly tumbling away.
He knew better than to let himself be distracted for too long however, and soon a second coyote was coming for him. They probably thought that they would have the upper paw given his age, but they were wrong. Dracun had killed a coyote before, and although it only had three legs, he doubted this would be too much of a challenge even if there were more than just one. He had to be confident though, he didn't want to need his fathers help.
The coyote thought they were fast, able to sneak up on him without getting noticed but Dracun only let them think that. Ear cocked towards the approaching coyote, he didn't turn to snap until it was lunging at him. Head twisted in time to wrap fangs into the side of the coyotes neck, forcing it's own attack to be nothing but snapping at the thick scruff of fur around his neck. He could barely feel it, and it made him smile. Even his sinlings could bite harder than that, could attack faster than that. This coyote thought that he was smart, but he was not, and Dracun wondered briefly if it was learning that lesson. Not that it would matter today, though, Dracun had no intentions of teaching it a lesson it could use another day... because he wasn't going to allow the coyote another day.
Suddenly, his fangs sunk deep into the flesh of the coyote and he jerked his head back before slamming it into the ground. It was a skinny thing really, and Dracun was certain he would never know what made it so brave. Despite the gaping punctures in its neck, the coyote stood on shaky legs and went in for a second round, this time much slower than the first. Dracun almost laughed as the coyote tried to lunge for a forelimb. What was it hoping for!? With ease the young man lifted and lashed out at the coyote, curling his toes to scrape his nails into the face of the canid and leaving a gash across its face and eye that would certainly end the life of the thing in a matter of moments.
It took less than a few moments really, the coyote already losing enough blood through the neck wound. Once it stopped wiggling on the ground, he smirked and looked back into the crowd of coyotes, ready to take on the next one.
With a savage twist, Aresenn wrenched the coyote's head to one side—there was a sharp snap as the creature's neck gave way under his powerful jaws. He released his grip, the lifeless body thudding heavily onto the grass. The metallic tang of blood coated his tongue, the taste of victory.
But there was no time to savor it. The rest of the pack was circling, emboldened by their numbers despite the swift demise of their leader. Aresenn rose to his full height, hackles raised, a rumble building in his chest as he sized up his next opponent. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dracun dispatch his own adversary with a vicious efficiency that sent a thrill of satisfaction through him. "Don't get cocky," Aresenn barked, even as pride swelled in his chest. "Stay focused.”
Aresenn snarled as he eyed the circling coyotes, the thrill of the fight pulsing through his veins. Another one darted forward, snapping at his flank. Aresenn whirled, his powerful jaws clamping down on the attacker's foreleg. Bone crunched under his bite. The coyote yelped, thrashing wildly as it tried to pull free. With a savage shake of his head, Aresenn sent it flying, the mangled leg dangling uselessly.
Don't get cocky, he heard his father say as he prepared for the next coyote. Didn't he know that cocky was his middle name? Probably should have been his first name, honestly, but that wasn't important now. What was important was ridding their home of the imminent coyote plague, to remind the wretched scavengers that this was no home for them. Not that Dracun had a problem of reminding them when their tiny brains forgot- it was fun!
One went for Aresenn as another came at him, seemingly hoping the distraction of briefly watching his father would be enough to get a good hold of the young pup but he was very wrong. The coyote attempted to sink fangs into his thick neck but Dracun could only smirk wickedly as teeth scraped nothing and the vermin was left with only a mouthful of fur. A foreleg rose quickly and wrapped around the coyote's back and pressed hard into the space between it's neck and shoulders, forcing the cretin to the ground with ease, forcing it to bend at an uncomfortable angle.
With the coyote under his paw now, pinned to the ground with claws digging into it's flesh, Dracun noticed yet another coyote coming to help its brethren. The lesser canid lunged and snapped at his heel and Dracun hissed as he felt the sharp fangs scrape at his flesh, drawing blood to the surface but leaving the important tendons and ligaments well attached. He growled and let the first coyote go to spin around and sink fangs into the second coyotes thigh before ripping a chunk of the muscle out and spitting it at the face of the coyote as it detached itself from his heel. The first coyote had refused to retreat and was lunging for another attack, this time to the offending forelimb that had held it down. With the second coyote temporarily distracted and blinded by it's own blood and muscle, Dracun focused yet again on the first one. Raising the paw as the coyote lunged for it, he quickly stomped their head into the dirt and dove his jaws into it's nape, effectively severing it's skull from it's spine in one swift movement.
The second coyote had freed the blood and muscle from its vision now and although it was limping and leaking blood at an alarming rate, it was one of few left and seemed to think they still had a chance against the father and son duo. Dracun was quick to remind them otherwise and growled through clenched teeth before changing directions and charging for the coyote. He saw a brief flash of fear in their eyes that made his snarl turn into a smile before sinking fangs into the side of the now-cowering coyotes neck, however unlike the others, Dracun didn't let this one die quickly. Throwing the animal into the ground, he pinned it there with his jaws and watched as the life slowly drained from the coyote in only a matter of seconds.
With a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest, he surged forward, fangs bared and eyes ablaze with fierce resolve. The air crackled with tension as he barreled into the coyote, pinning it beneath his weight. The forest fell momentarily silent aside from the frantic thrumming of his heartbeat. Aresenn leaned down, jaws snapping like a bear trap as they closed around the creature's throat. He could feel the warmth of its blood seeping onto his muzzle, the final struggle of life draining away beneath him.
The satisfaction was electric but fleeting; there was no time to linger on glory. The remaining coyotes were regrouping, eyes darting between father and son, uncertainty gnawing at their instincts. Aresenn sensed their hesitation, the glimmer of doubt amidst the pack's wild fury. This was their moment to strike fear into their hearts, a chance to solidify their dominion over the sound. He raised his head, blood dripping from his jaws as he bared his teeth in a fierce snarl, a warning and a challenge all wrapped into one.
"Dracun, flank them!" Aresenn commanded, not bothering to glance back at his son, trusting him to understand the urgency. He could almost feel the pulse of charged excitement radiating between them.