wild roses in the wasteland

A brow raises gently at the boy's retort. Cocky, is he? Raumr cannot help but allow his scarred lips to move upward into a hint of a smile. It was amusing when mere whelps believed themselves to be anything but. Did the boy really believe he had a one up on him? With or without the antlers, Raumr was still larger, stronger, agile and swift. He was a mere canine.

Revealing stained canines, Raumr settles in. Shoulders hunched, knees bent, body lowered as his tail flicked back and forth. Beginning to circle slowly, his gaze never leaves the tyrannous shadow that bolts directly for him. Leaving no breathing room between them, he sees the antlers that are speared in his direction, right for the tender piece behind his elbow. Raumr fights to click his teeth and chuckle.

Keeping those close quarters, he feels the graze of the sharp tips slice his skin as he positions his body to be more perpendicular by the time Bjorn greets him. His front paws draw upward as his hind paws drag through the dirt and swivel in to be facing the youngster. Reaching upward, Raumr attempts to slide his attacked arm under Bjorn's neck and his outside arm over the boy's neck in a sort of animalistic headlock.

Raumr Regalus, the Third