Round 2.

Xairo's eyes narrowed as Oath spoke, his words striking a nerve deep within the young wolf. The mention of his name, his destiny, the weight of it all - it was like Oath had peered into his very soul and laid bare all the insecurities he tried so hard to hide. A snarl curled his lips, exposing sharp canines. "You don't know anything about me, don't pretend like you do!" Xairo spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you understand, but you don't. No one does."

He began to circle Oath, his movements predatory and deliberate. The older wolf remained still, watching him with those infuriatingly calm cyan eyes. It only fueled Xairo's rage, his desperate need to lash out, to make someone else feel the turmoil that raged within him. "I don't need your pity or your understanding," Xairo growled, his muscles tensing as he prepared to strike.

With a roar, Xairo lunged at Oath with splayed jaws, aimed to catch the older brute in an initial clash. Specifically the scruff between neck and shoulder, but he was reckless and prepared to take any hold he could get.

"Xairo Saxe"