Drooping Willows Let me be the salt in your wounds

The monochrome wolf didn't ease up the pressure, in fact he added more, and for that she gave him some brownie points. He had some stubbornness too, though since he was in the objectively better position Rye supposed it was easier to remain steadfast in his actions.

She somehow managed a giggle around his leg without releasing any pressure. This was fun, but at the same time she wanted them to be a bit more on even ground. Though he had the height advantage she was bigger and heavier, and maybe if she contorted her body in just the right way she could gain enough leverage to get what she wanted.

Rolling over more onto her side, Rye braced with her legs in the snow and the dirt underneath as she pulled her head back, taking care to not actually do more damage than the points of contact she had. She would try to pull the other wolf's leg sideways and underneath to unbalance him, hoping that would either get him to let go or make him fall down onto the ground beside her.

She honestly didn't know which outcome she would prefer, but either way she was sure he would be caught off guard.

(This post was last modified: Apr 15, 2023, 02:14 AM by Ryenne.)

Giggling. She's giggling and he's just 100% baffled and slightly concerned. They're having a scrape, a tussle, but when she bit his leg it had gone from something playful to something with a darker edge, so why's she's treating this like something that's just fun? It's .. morbid.

And she's really not going to let go, is she? Would she, even if he did? He's not sure. Damned if you do, damned if you don't- and what is she doing now?

She flops, as much as his teeth around her nose allows her, and then pulls on him-

Maybe there was an intention to not hurt him much more, but, it's kind of hard to pull on something you're holding with your teeth without causing more damage. He hisses as she tugs on flesh and skin, caught in a weird position where she's trying to pull his leg out from under him, but at the same time he's hunched over with his head on her face. The result is some truly awkward and unbalanced hopping on his part, nearly making him trip over and onto her. It's almost not worth holding on for, and it did make his grip on her nose a fair bit worse.

Well she got him to move.

The added pressure from his off-balanced movement, however, made the contact points of his teeth on her face dig in further. He didn't fall over like she wanted, but her mood wasn't completely soured.

Deciding she had had enough of their little game Rye let go, a more muted giggle leaving her now opened maw. It would be only fair if he let go too, and she was sure her nose would be a little raw after this encounter. Battle scars were cool though, and she had no qualms about any possible detriment to her physical appearance.

Her tail still swept behind her on the snow as she stared up at the monochrome wolf, waiting for him to let go so she could scramble to her paws without causing unnecessary damage to her face. If he didn't let go? Well, neither of them would probably like the outcome of that.

He is about to let go himself, fully prepared to viciously attack her shouldn't she let his leg go, but she beats him to it by a fraction. His worried and sore and mistreated appendage is released, and with an almost disgusted yelch kind of sound Malien opens his mouth. Rather swiftly, to not invite her to bite him again, he hops away, turning to face her and gingerly putting his slightly injured leg on the ground. There's nothing wrong with it, it just aches and stings a little.

"You definitely have a unique sense of humor," he remarks with a tilt of his head, sounding faintly amused.

Before she could even blink he hopped away with a most delightful noise (to her, at least) of apparent disgust, though his words hinted at at least some sort of merriment, so clearly there was something more going on than her eyes could see.

"Sure do!" Rye crowed in agreement, flopping over onto her side and then back up onto all fours in a only semi-graceful movement. She shook wildly to discard of the snow that had packed into her fur, gingerly licking at the wounds on her face even as she grinned at the monochrome wolf.

He too was sporting an injury, though to call it an injury would be an insult to anyone who had ever had a real injury. She'd done more damage play-fighting than that before, and had no real sympathy for him.

"So what brings you out here, if not for me?" She batted her eyelashes at him again, but by the grin on her face there was no coyness to it at all, rather simply a burst of joyous energy at finally having her face be free once again.