It didn't take long for the man to separate himself from the group and join Maverick in their 'arena' of sorts. Maverick hoped this would be a relatively quick and painless spar, though he imagined the latter was not likely. What good was a spar if some minute amount of pain was not inflicted? "Fine by me," the Prince would retort. Pleasantries had been left behind him, this was no time for courtesies. Maverick got to decide the length. The boy pondered for a mere moment. "Four rounds each." The Prince nodded, four rounds was long enough, but short as well. They could do enough damage in four rounds to determine a winner - he was sure. "Good luck to you as well." The Prince would offer, as his face melted into a serious mask. The boy was done talking.
He'd never done this before, but he assumed there was no better time to break in his sparring gloves than the present. This man seemed pleasant enough, and perhaps he would be a worthy opponent. Of course, he might not even be the warrior Maverick imagined him to be, for all the prince knew he was a healer or runner. In fact, that would make more sense due to the fact that Frino had been the one to request no disfigurement. As Maverick pondered this, he allowed his ears to pin back protectively, head aligning with his spine simultaneously. His tail snaked out behind him for balance, and his paws set firmly upon the earth. Russet lips curled upward into a menacing snarl, though no sound was emitted from slightly agape jowls.
The man raced for him, a direct attack had not been expected. The level of his head and the direct approach of the attack left Maverick assuming that the man intended to bite his face or chest. Instinct told him to move, to jump, to leap, to back up, anything to avoid the jaws approaching him at a rapid pace. His mind told him otherwise, and so - the boy braced. Fangs snapped shut on the flesh of his bosom, breaking the skin and leaving two gashes in their wake. Lime eyes narrowed in pain, but he would make no sound. Instead, his own fangs serpentined for the skin on the back of the man's neck - seeking a tight grip upon the loose flesh that lay just in reach. He moved forward as he did so, hoping to follow the male's backpedalling and still get a grip on something.
Round 1 : 4
Attacks - Fangs seeking Frino's scruff
Defenses - Paws set, fangs bared, ears pinned, tail flagged
Injuries - Two medium vertical gashes on his chest near the breastbone
"speeeeech"
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