Strike a violent pose

He was surprised when he felt Vadim's jaws released their hold on his scruff just before he bucked upward. Startled when he heard his brother let out a yelp, when he'd succeeded in rearing upward and smashing the boy under the chin with the back of his neck. Things moved quickly, and he felt his own fangs lacerate through his brother's flesh again. Expecting retaliation, he was again surprised when his brother instead pulled away - he parted his jaws to let Vadim get away, having no intention of trying to hold a grip. Without Vadim's forelegs gripping him, Ramsay dropped his own weight, placing his forepaws back on the ground, resetting his defenses when he did so. Four paws spread at an equal distance apart, toes splayed, claws digging into the ground. His head lowered to align with his spine, tail tucked, his chin tucking over his throat protectively and ears remaining folded against his head. His narrowed eyes turned to glance in his brother's direction, muzzle wrinkling to bunch up the skin around his face and reveal his now blood-stained fangs.

Seeing his brother upon the ground, he thought smugly to himself that he must have knocked the heavier boy down when he'd reared back. Now that he had the advantage, he wasn't going to let himself get get trapped in a compromising position again. He attempted to pounce closer to Vadim, jaws parted wide as a rumbling growl escaped him with hackles spiking dominantly, trying to bring his forepaws within 1 ft. of his brother where he lay on the ground. As he prepared himself for the next move, his olive green eyes locked stares with Vadim's fiery eyes; it was then that he realized something was different.

-end fight post-

Vadim had given up, and there was a cold sort of hatred radiating from his eyes as he looked up at Ramsay. Suddenly the adrenaline coursing through his veins drained, and he realized how hard he was breathing. His snarling visage quickly sunk into a frown, the tension in his muscles melting, and his vision returning to normal from its blurred, tunnel-vision state. Suddenly he could see all the blood; he could taste it on his tongue, and it soaked the fur around his mouth.

Ramsay didn't know what to do now. They'd fought. They'd gotten the rage out. They'd settled their dispute. But why didn't it feel the way he'd thought it would? He thought he was going to prove his point, and things were going to quickly go back to the way they were. However, it was very obvious that there was still tension in the air, but of a very different nature. In stunned silence, he watched his brother lower his head to the ground, blood dripping from his closed jaws. He heard the whine escape him, clearly upset. Ramsay took a step back, glancing around before looking back to his brother. "Vadim.... hey, don't be like that," the lame words came out of his mouth, "I-it's just a little blood... Vadim, I... this isn't what I wanted." His head moved back and forth, his breathing started to slow. Why wouldn't anything useful leave his mouth? He wanted to apologize, to take it all back, but wasn't it too late for that? Suddenly he thought to the rest of his family... how were they going to explain all the blood? How was he going to justify picking a fight with his beloved brother?

Vadim vs. Ramsay || Dominance || 3/3