i've got a jar of dirt

The next few seconds all occurred within a blur of whirlwind movements. Stolas began to withdraw his offense, but the wolf he assumed was Widow refused and continued to press. The young Abraxas-Destruction wolf felt sharp fangs find their way into his skin at his shoulder, drawing another hissing snarl from him at the stings of pain that came with those fangs. Then weight pulled him down, and with his footing not yet solid, Stolas went down with his opponent. However, where she ended up landing on her back beneath him, he managed to straighten his paws and catch himself mid-fall. Stolas wound up straddled atop his opponent, three paws on either side of her with one large paw pressing down on her chest, effectively pinning her beneath his body weight.

It was only then that Stolas managed to draw back enough to confirm his opponent's identity, his lean, youthful muscles still tense and exerting all their strength to hold the other wolf down beneath him in a pin until they yielded. Graphite gray eyes leered down at the wolf he'd bested, noting the slender, supple curves of a young female's body. Her scent was rich in his nares, ringing all sorts of bells. The dusty slate and navy coat was familiar, and while the leopard-like spots on her sides were new, the gold markings on her face were unmistakable. Yep, this was Widow, all right!

"Widow, stop! It's Stolas!" he snapped down at the furiously growling fae, bracing his paw on her chest hard to keep her held in place while he held his stance firm on his other three legs around her. "Grrrrr, stop fighting and look at me! Remember, the carnival?" He tried to give Widow a charming little smile, hoping she'd recall the day at the carnival they'd shared—but the lad was prudent enough to not lessen his pressing down on her in case she didn't remember and decided to choose violence again.

"Stolas Abraxas-Destruction"