You may hate me, but I can't hate you

Dunamis boy. Zagan hadn’t heard that name before- assumably, it was a surname- but regardless, it meant nothing to the Saxe. His focus was on the impending battle- the intoxicating rush of adrenaline- the high of spilling blood and inflicting pain. As he stared at the boy, his bi-colored eyes came alive- gleaming with predatory, feverish delight- tracking his every move, and readying himself for the onslaught.

And suddenly, the Dunamis boy was off- charging at Zagan, snapping his jaws and initiating the fight. Zagan braced himself- every muscle growing taught beneath his thick pelt- a wild, manic-sounding snarl bubbling from his jaws.

He braced himself for an impact, but it never came- instead, his opponent rose onto his back legs- and Zagan took the opening. Muscles strained and sinews stretched as he shot off his hind legs, ducking and attempting to dart under the reared-up boy. His quills were standing erect as he moved- meant to stab into his opponent- while his snapping jaws aimed at the boy’s right hind leg, where it connected to his abdomen.

But he could not completely avoid the bear paw swiping at him- it slapped against his left shoulder, tearing into his skin, which earned another snarl from the Saxe. Searing pain shot across his leg- but he did not stop.


"Zagan Saxe"