The man arrived on time. Good. Kiche was not sure how long he would have been able to wait before the fear would have won out and he would have given up. He was weak. Even if he knew that this was what he must do he was scared. Scared of this man of even deeper reds, of his girth, his position, and what lay beyond him — all those others he must face. Pangur, he whispered in his heart, Pangur, you ask too much of me. But from God there was no response. There was no way out of this.

In response to the snort, the lowly wolf slowly raised his own tail. This motion was new to him. though he had seen it done by many wolves before he had never really had a reason to do it before. This artful dance, however, was new to him — and if he intended to come out on top he could not just let the other wolf lead. The lowest had only an inkling of how to proceed, a small thrust from his instincts that pulled back at his lips and bared his teeth. Slowly, carefully, Kiche began to circle around this wolf, "I have come for what is mine."

"I will not ask you to give it to me. I know that if I am to have it. I must take it." In the darkness of his soul he could feel this was true, this was wolf-lore. As his ears fell back on his head it was if the last few remnants of Kiche the pet fell away from his spirit. His old life was far behind him now.

Abruptly, he lunged towards Guiness. His parted jaws sought the other's muzzle, hoping he could just clamp down and assert himself.

He was a wolf at last.

• note to self: kiche's hp is 23
  
  feel free to bro it up after this

The large brute was just fast enough to move his head away, and at first the hollow priest's jaws met only air. But the russet wolf —who, in both coloring and size could have been his twin— was not fast enough. His teeth had found his opponent's foreleg. A deep hum of satisfaction in the form of a growl buzzed in his throat as his fangs broke through the skin and the metallic scent of blood wafted up into his nostrils. Warmth flooded his mouth. He held tight like a bear-trap.

It didn't seem to matter.

Guiness was strong.

He tore his foreleg away from the saint's jaws quickly. Thought this would prevent Kiche from breaking his leg, it could not prevent him from doing further damage as his fangs scored through the leg. So focused was Kiche on holding on, however, that he did not see his opponent lash. He did not feel his twin's jaws until they were at his nape, biting down hard. While Guiness had a hold of him, he was only attached near the base of his neck, leaving Kiche with some mobility.Thunder rumbled in his throat, and immediately Kiche twisted and to reach for the other wolf's throat, hoping to end this fast.

• sooo, one more round after this. -makes attempt to be bro-y

It was strange, to Kiche, to hold a life in his jaws.

The strength of the feelings churning in his stomach was unfathomable. Was this what it felt like to be powerful, to accept his own nature at last? Suddenly, he wondered if he was ready for this. For so long he had been running away from this side of himself, fighting against this fate. And here he was now, standing above this other wolf — a wolf, not a barbarian. He was no longer a captive of a heathen cult, no, he was a part of a world, a culture that was just as rich and beautiful as the one he had been born into so very far away.

A snort pulled him back down to earth. Gently, the red giant released his comrade, although he did not make any other move. No longer the lowest, the newborn wolf towered above his autumn cloaked brother, gazing down at him with wonder and confusion. Something was missing still — somehow he did not feel as if this were truly over, as if he had truly won.

And then suddenly a flame erupted in his heart, and clear, burning meaning flooded his veins as his eyes moved across the woven tapestry of earth and ginger chest fur of the defeated man. In an instant he understood something that had, for a very long time, remained beyond his reach. What he once believed to be a trick of heathen glamour suddenly made sense. His red fur bristled with electric excitement that sparked and flickered in his firebrand eyes. Oh, yes his eyes. Oh, how he had always feared and hated to look upon another's eyes, oh how he hated the burning and the tingling uneasiness that overwhelmed him. But this was not magic to him anymore... it was the nature of his species. A sign that he had always been a wolf after all.

A part of him was scared to make this final move, for he knew there was no looking back. But there was no choice.

Ever so slowly, his gaze of dark amber traveled upwards, weaving through Guiness' thick fur as if it were an autumn forest. Aimlessly, hesitantly, his eyes meandered up from his chest, passed his legs, along his throat, and down from the tip of his muzzle to find those two golden eyes. In a look, Kiche said all he needed to. You are mine now. I have won. It is over.