Learning the ropes

The young boy did not have to wait long. His father's pack was filled with wolves who wanted to learn, and fighting was a prominent trait among them. The winged pup grinned at the black and white wolf that turned up, his words super direct, but that was okay.

Thrumming with the desire to burst into action, the boy shuffled in his place on the sand, setting his stance, widening it, pushing his claws into the sand, bunching his neck. He was eager, and the other boys' words to start were all the encouragement he needed.

He burst forward. The boy was shorter than him, despite how young Mortis was, and he intended to use that to his advantage. He aimed to smack his right shoulder into the corner of Dunkens right neck and shoulder. His right forepaw moved in an attempt to scrape his feline-like claws down the length of the other boy's right foreleg, between his knee and his ankle.