The Bomb Dot Com

His call would be heard by none other then one of his own kin. Known only by the fact he bore the same last name. Lips would curl in a grin as he gazed at the other boy, tail curling and uncurling behind his hocks. "Indeed I am of Glaciem Blood. Brother to Talvi, Kasai, and Sol. Son of Argent and Isardis." He would cock his head slightly to the side, stature high and raised as was his usual stance. He eyed him briefly, tongue swiping across his jaws as if craving to fight already. "Well then, Drashiel. We have more in common upon our first meeting then most. Same pack, same bloodlines, same motives. I've trained myself beyond pack lands, I too am no pushover." A smirk would be brought to his face, all the while he would begin to set himself for the battle to come.

Body would lower in position, knees bending, toes splaying, claws scraping into the dirt to provide him the traction and support he so desired. Abdomen would tense, tail aligned with his spine as did his head to become vertical with the ground on which he stood. Audits would lie against his personal crown, eyes narrowing and yet keeping his opponent within his sights. Hackles rose, making the brute appear larger then nature made him to be. Lips would curl into a snarl, teeth bared whilst his chin tucked and his head lowered to protect his jugulars. Neck pulled back slightly to allow his scruff to add protection upon the hind of his neck, and lastly his shoulders would roll forward to act as a shield to his throat. The boy took after his mother, his fight instincts inherited and learned.

"Here I come." Would be his only warning before he surged forward, legs propelling him at great speed as he charged at his opponent. It seemed his kin was willing to fight, however harsh, and Raw would give him that. He would not hold back, for he never did. Win or lose, both would learn from this experience, he was sure. The boy would propel himself forward, attempting to close the distance between them whilst sweeping slightly to the left before pivoting to the right. Right shoulder would strive forth, jutting outwards as he would attempt to bash it against Drashiel's leftwards mid-chest. If successful, he would try to use his momentum to unbalance or even knock him over. Simultaneously, jaws would unhinge, teeth seeking to grasp at Drashiel's left side of his neck, though slightly behind. He wanted to attain a grip, and should he succeed he would strive to hold on and shake, hopefully, without breaking grip. Should he fail, then Raw would strive to grab hold elsewhere, wherever that may be. Though he hoped for his intended target.

Raw Vs. Drashiel--Practice Spar

Round: 1/2

Attacks: 3rd paragraph

Defenses: 2nd paragraph

Injuries: Pending, should his initial attack succeed then possible bruising on his shoulder.
"Speech"