the way we stalk, the way we kiss

Unfortunately, the much larger male stood firm. The hilt of his sword was soaked in drool and blood by now, still clenched between his aching jaws. Now the two of them were thoroughly entangled in their brawl. As the larger male doubled down, he wrenched his head down to one side. Fine, if his opponent wanted him to move, Nao would move. A snarl bubbled up in his chest, and he sought to follow the arc of Diablo's vicious redirection of his skull. Tightening his grip on the handle of his wazikashi as he ducked down and tipped his head as far to the side as it would go. His goal was to rake the end of the blade across the upper chest and lower neck, praying that this would be the wound that shocked the titan into loosening his grip.

The dainty male wrenched his eyes shut against the pain of those silver capped fangs shredding the flesh around his eyes, and it was decidedly involuntary that his hind paws bit into the earth. If he held fast while his weapon bit into the younger man's flesh, and his grip loosened even an ounce, Nao hoped that he would be able to quickly pull away in that moment. If he got some distance, he could reassess how he wanted to proceed within the raid. He hoped.