Félicien might have been avoided, but that was fine. The young man would not be shaken, focusing on keeping his defenses in line. Ears were pinned, eyes were narrowed. Neck was aligned with his spine. Jaws were parted, lips snarling, as he moved into a counter move against his cousin. Spar or not this was serious business. Training today could be what saved your butt in a fight tomorrow. His cousin had sidestepped to his left, Félicien’s right, and the young man would push his body towards the right into his cousin’s jaws in hopes that when he bit down he would get them bruised.
Blood welled up from where Fate’s bite landed either way; upon his upper deltoid brachioradialis {see notes for muscle reference.} His opponents fangs sank in at least half an inch, a moderate bite wound. While he came at Fate the golden man would lift his right foreleg higher, barely missing the pawstomp as he sought to shove his forepaw into the other boy’s right pectoralis {See notes again.} His weight would be distributed across his remaining three legs as he did so. Finally Félicien would aim to give a bite of his own, reaching for his cousin’s scuff. His own shoulders remained rolled forward, his hackles raised along his body. Tail would flag out behind him in a banner. His legs remained in a widened stance overall, to aid with his balance, as did his toes.
Félicien was excited. This was the most fun in a spar he had in forever!
