the hills have eyes.

. . .



The purple male didn't fall under the barrage of attacks, but neither did he hasten to give a counter attack. Cross had been expecting his opponent to immediately start trying to sidestep, or spin his haunches around or at least curl his head back and start snapping at white and cream fur. But in those first precious seconds after Cross's attack landed, there wasn't any of that. The violet youth seemed too consumed with just keeping himself from going down again, but it meant that he wasn't trying to regain and control he was giving the white attacker a free pass at continuing to do damage to his back. If this had been the real deal, that could've meant a bite for the spine - slashing claws raking down taunt sides. It could spell serious injuries, and Cross, though no where near as fast the warriors he'd grown up around, recognized this.

But he didn't press that advantage or anything. Just like before when he'd taken Basilisk to the ground, he switched tactics as soon as he knew his attack was successful. It was the same now. He didn't seek more blood or ripping or anything like that, but he did get a particularly wicked idea.

Perhaps Cross's opponent hadn't had as much training as he had, or perhaps he hadn't had enough big siblings to push him around and teach that if he didn't keep trying and piling on attacks he was gonna get whupped. Cross's snarl twisted into a rare mischievous smile. Basilisk had leaned into his attack, all his effort going into staying upright and steady - well perfect. Cross would use that. His forepaws had landed on the back, well now Cross was pushing off with his hind legs, leaping up and hopefully onto the purple youth's back. "Look!-I'm king a' the world!" he shouted in a wobbly bark.

Whether or not it would really land or even if Basilisk would be able to hold up under the surprise and weight for more than a split second was anyone's guess. Maybe he would keep his cool and be able to just twist and throw the white youth head over heels, - or maybe they'd crumble down together in a heap of legs and paws and teeth. Whatever happened, Cross would try his hardest to keep his paws planted and tail out. Even if he did pull it off for a heartbeat or two, Cross was gonna get his butt handed to him for this. But he didn't care. This was more fun than he'd had in a whole season!






. . .