Willow Ridge i am the fighting kind

@Pickerel Rank Challenge.

Tooth and nail

It felt good to be back. Settling among the drooping trees, finding his place. The first thing he did was to find out just how many were here now. A total of fourteen in his absence give or take. There were a few familiar scents, and others not so much. Though the cubs were obvious to whom they belonged. Ren wondered how their parents were doing. Padding along a certain bath, he felt inclined to speak to his Uncle of certain matters. For the time being he was a bit eager to gain his place back. Prove to them he was going to do anything but idly sit by. Especially with the newcomers above him.

It was finding the one younger than himself, Ren went straight to the point. He wanted his rank, and he wanted it sooner rather than later. It was a nice day for a challenge. A hint of a cool breeze to the gray sky, but little snow, and only a bit of mud here and there. Morganna wanted proof he would give it to her.

"Lo," he greeted the coppery brute, having already taken the time to size him up. He was just a bit taller, and heavier than Ren, but the Lyall had little belief this would hinder his wants. "So, passing the small talk. I'm Renier. I was gone, now I'm back and you got the spot I want. You want to keep it, you'll have to best me."

(This post was last modified: Nov 24, 2015, 06:31 PM by Renier.)

Pickerel was curious as to the approach of the newest member, turning his head as he approached him.
As he nears, Pickerel dips his head slightly, casting a simple "G'day" back to him.
The man before him then spoke rather simply; he got to his point. Raising his head
up, he replies "Pike." A few seconds after widening the space between them, he
speaks once more "No time to lose, then." Alright. This hadn't exactly been a
typical meet-and-greet of a pack-member ordeal, and was a bit off-put from it. His
eyes look to the ground between them as he gathers his thoughts and prepares himself
for a fight.

It wasn't long until he felt the heat of the battle beginning to lure him into fighting. The
tension in the air became undeniable, and he raises his hackles. His snout begins to
wrinkle as his eyes narrow, brows arching over his eyes. There was that hesitation as
to whom would attack first. He hated hesitation. As a fisherman, hesitation was the
difference between catching or losing a fish. The odds weren't in his favor for such
during fighting. Nostrils widening, the wolf takes in a deep breath and decides to move.

He presses himself hard off the cool soil, hind legs springing him forward sooner
than he had wanted to go. Hesitation. He hoped he would land his strike to throw him off.
He comes straight forward, bringing his head inward as to protect his neck.

(This post was last modified: Nov 27, 2015, 08:03 PM by Pickerel.)

I feel rusty, so if something doesn't make sense let me know. I hope you know with fight system, that you decide where Ren will actually get Pike. I just let his target known.

Tooth and nail

There would have been no best way to prepare the coppery male, thus he had went with the straight forward approach. The man stood up, giving him a name in turn, and the Lyall tucked it away, hoping no matter the outcome perhaps they could be friends of some sort. Being in the same pack would give them no reason to really dislike each other. Besides his opponent  was rising to the challenge, and the masked rogue appreciated the effort after all.

The man stood, inclined to keep his rank, making himself look larger, and more threatening. In turn the rogue's dark banner lifted, his thick hair bristled along his neck, and shoulders, and he took a widened stance, chin tucked, waiting. It seemed Pike was going to make the first move, Ren was ready to counter back. When Pike launched himself forward, in that second something was off. Was he feinting?  Ren did not hesitate, no matter what Pike was going to do, Ren had every intention of actually getting a hold on the other. He lunged forward, his wrinkled muzzle wide open for the rich colored muzzle of his pack mate. There would be no intention to harm, just to make him submit.

ooc; I figured as much :). Man, Pike isn't having luck with rolls. Tried to reply as Renier doesn't want to harm Pike; making it as if he just had a firm grasp on him. If you want me to change anything, let me know :)

The horrific sinking feeling one gets in their chest when disappointed or scared suddenly pierces Pike.
His hesitation had brought him to an awful situation. Missing the man of earthy colors before him, Pickerel
keeps his head tucked. Time seemed to be moving slowly as his body came downward and his opponent
reacted accordingly. Renier moves away from his strike, and Pike begins cursing himself out in his head.
He was most certainly rusty. It would be wise to get in a few practice scuffles after this ordeal resolved.
His head began to throb as adrenaline pushed its way through his body. The challenger lunges forward
at the russet man, and Pike is well aware that he will be taking a hit. He couldn't move quickly enough
after launching himself first at Renier. The other man's jaws widen, and Pickerel catches a glint off the fangs
that near him.

His teeth are aimed at his muzzle, but Pickerel knows he can duck a bit to avoid such a blow. It was the
only thing he could do in such a limited amount of time. Craning his head downward, the red man
feels his temporary enemy's fangs breach his thick neck fur. The teeth had connected where his head meets his
neck, resulting in a sharp pain, but no blood release. Wincing, Pike releases a hasty snarl. His eyes
remain narrowed as he takes in this pain, wriggling as to escape. He turns his head as much as he can,
snapping his own fangs back at the wolf and hoping to catch any part of him. He raises his right front limb,
attempting to grapple to man's side to push him away.

(This post was last modified: Dec 01, 2015, 09:33 PM by Pickerel.)

@Pickerel Geeze poor Pike. >.<  Ok I took it as Ren still has a hold of Pike. I'm counting his snapping, and using his paw as just the one miss. For Ren's 'hit' I'm going to use that to force Pike closer to the ground. I figure if you get a hit in the next roll if you're gonna, Ren would lose his grip? If that helps. :X

Tooth and nail

It was not a muzzle, but the side scruff of the coppery brute's neck his teeth found. It would work in the meantime, if he had to use pain to get what he wanted he would. Not all pain was made of blood and scars. There was no mistaking how his opponent felt about that. A deeper growl rumbled in his chest in reply, telling him to give it up. No, he tries to dance away, and use his own teeth in turn. Renier has leverage, and pulls downward to deflect the upcoming blow. He admired Pike for trying, but apparently he needed more practice, or Ren had really caught him off guard. Maybe, the gods were against him.

Still, he wouldn't back down. You will, was his harsh thought. The coppery wolf tried to shove him aside with his paw, Renier pressed closer into him, to make it harder fro him to try it again. This time while he didn't tighten his grip too much, he began to push forcefully down on the man's scruff. He could end this if he would simply give, but maybe he wanted to kiss the dirt. Too bad they didn't have an audience.  

ooc; Sounds good to me. It's hard to play out when he keeps missing. At least he's got one hit so far :p

Pike could feel himself beginning to seethe as the opponent growls in response.
Why wasn't he doing well? Perhaps today just wasn't his day. His brows remain furrowed as
Renier begins to push him downward. Aggravation pulls at the russet man; he was trying to rid of
the disappointment in himself to complete this fight with dignity. He holds his ground, widening his
stance as well as he could as to not fully eat dirt. He wasn't going down without getting at least one
hit in, or so he was hoping. With a second wind coming about him, Pike figures it's now or never to
try something again. He didn't have much time.

The forceful pressing of his scruff continued for a few more moments before the man was finally set
off. Gritting his teeth, he begins to press back upward against the wolf he faced. Suddenly, he violently
shakes his head, praying such would relieve the pressure that was upon him. Pike turns his head inward
toward the man he was up against, and he begins to lean himself into him. Taking in a deep breath,
he continues to push, confident that he would force the wolf off. If fortune was on his side, perhaps
the shove would buy him time to gain his composure. The second wind wouldn't last him forever, but
he refused to be overtaken easily.

(This post was last modified: Dec 08, 2015, 10:17 PM by Pickerel.)

@Pickerel lol Ren gets a miss now.

Tooth and nail

His opponent was still resisting, why Renier would have done the same, the Lyall knew his grip was slipping. A growl of annoyance, vibrated his throat. Half attempting to convince the other to again, just give up. This was how it would end. It didn't work as he wished. Pike was trying something else, using his heavy weight against Ren. The brute could feel him pressing tighter to his chest, compromising his balance. Damn. He hoped to have this over with. He should know nothing would be this easy. Was anything worth having so?

Skin and fur slipped from his mouth, and reluctantly he opened his jaws, letting go of the hold he had had. The same seconds his cream paws shuffled ungracefully in the mud strewn snow as he tried to steady his frame, prepare for Pike's retaliation. A lowered chin, a crinkled muzzle, ready to be bite back.  Once Ren felt the ground steady, quickly he snapped in the other man's direction, hoping he may not be ready for such a quick bite. It was not one with purpose or much thought, and he more or less snapped his teeth together, only getting air. Over confidence was not in his favor.