Stolen Dance (Open Spar)

The male strolled casually through the battlefield, cream-colored, muscular shoulders rolling and powerful haunches swaying. Ebony paws scuffed through the fallen leaves, a crisp crackling noise made with each step. Ehrgeiz had come looking for someone to introduce himself to through bloodshed. The eager howl of a fighter caught his attention, causing his black tinted ears to perk. So, somebody else also wished to test their fangs and claws on the flesh of another? It seemed he would be getting to know someone up close and personal fairly soon. Adjusting the direction which his paws carried him, he would head toward the location of his soon to be opponent.

At last he would see her in the distance; she was a hefty female, quite a bit larger than himself, but it wouldn't dissuade him. He prowled toward her head on, his tail lifted high, a clear sign that he would be her challenger today. He stopped 20 ft. in front of her. The man's singular blue eye would meet her gaze with a hard stare, pink tongue swiping over black muzzle. "I want to know what your blood tastes like," he growled, the steam of his breath swirling around his teeth, "You'll know my flavor soon enough." Then he would shut his jaws, beginning to ready himself for the fight. His head lowered, chin tucking to protect his throat and ears flattening against his head. Lips curled back to reveal his fangs, skin wrinkling up around his face and eye narrowing. His legs spread evenly to distribute his weight, joints bending to lower his center of gravity, toes splaying and talons gripping the earth. He began to stalk forward slowly as the hair rose along his back, shoulders rolling forward to bunch up his scruff. "Ladies first," he taunted with a sneer, pausing as he waited for her to make a move.