Lo, there do I see my father (RAID)

Saying this was fun would be an understatement. This was the way of the Finnvis, this was the life they were meant to live. Briefly he would turn to regard Laufey, a proud - and quite blatantly cocky - grin tearing across his lips. Even Hypnos seemed ready to fight, and he felt the thrill of battle flooding him like a river might flood an opened dam.

It seemed as though he'd caught the attention of one particular wolf, a rather young one, with pale fur and anger brimming in his eyes. His grin lessened, shifting into a wry smirk, his eyes narrowing as he shifted to a far more defensive stance. "Try me," the one-eyed viking would sneer, his grin growing, seeming to sink into the deep scar that had destroyed the sight in one of his eyes. He was unafraid of pain and he had no intention of being sent away - not now, not when they had just started. Eyes widening, his tail would spring out behind him for balances, his body instinctively lowering to the ground and his head ducking down as his shoulders tightened and rolled forward to better protect his vitals. "Til árs ok friðar!" he would mutter to himself with an excited snicker, perhaps a strange thing to pray for during a raid rather than a more traditional blót, but if he could wish for anything it would be for them to sacrifice these pack wolves to the gods. The peace he wanted

Without further hesitation, he would spring forward as the stranger did. The distance was but five feet, easily overcome by Félicien as he rushed forward, head on. A snarl ripped from Kapra's throat as he used his back legs to push his entire weight forward, not away from the other man's attack but directly into it. He had no fear, not for the dull claws that sought to claw at his eyes, for one was already useless, and he figured the other would make a fine offering for Odin someday. The pressure against his face was sudden but far from mutilating, and he would shift his own weight slightly to his front paws as he aimed to press forward, directly against Félicien. He would attempt to duck his head from the other man's grasp, pulling straight back and trying to duck below, aiming to tilt his head about fourty-five degrees to the left and upward, aiming his parted jaws at the area below his throat - aiming to bite with all his strength & to make this man suffer.

Round 1 / 2 for Raid