Nice Guys Always Lose

The cambion looked to the smaller boy, he gave a soft shake of his head. And then looked back at the man, yes he may have came here before him. Yes, he may have came here quite a few times, but this is were Kataraménos lived, choose to live and belonged. He growled lowly, then he pissed on his fucking rock.  "Okay fuck it! You wanna play it this way? Okay, I'll play!" he hissed, spit glided out of his maw.


He narrowed his eyes and aligned his tail with his spine and his head copied the motion. Legs spread evenly and bent slightly at the knee, ears rolled back and pinned to his crown. Nail's bite into the earth to aid his traction. He lowered his center of gravity and tucked his tail to protect his underbelly. His hackles raised, along his neck and spine. He then tucked his chin to protect his throat. Shoulders rolled scruff bunched to protect his vitals. Charred lips pulled back to reveal a bright red tongue and gleaming white teeth. He gave a growl, as he tried to close the small distance between them if the man allowed. He would then try and ram his chest into the other man's chest hoping to knock the wind out of him, and if it did hit they most likely would end up with mild bruising. He would then try and take a few steps to his own right and thrust his upper body, up and he would then aim to hit the man in the windpipe with the point of his shoulder, hoping to make him chock and maybe even leave mild bruising. At the same time his jaw would snap open and he would try and bite the man on the upper portion of his neck, his upper jaw seeking to find a solid hold on the mans left side of his upper  neck and his lower jaw seeking to get a solid hold of the mans lower right portion of his neck if the attack landed it would hopefully leave moderate, wounds.