Pleasure and pain mixed. The latter was far more intense, but at the edges Heath could feel the pleasuring entity. It was hard to focus on it, but it was there and Heath pushed hard and further in hopes of increasing it. Maybe it was the taste of blood, or the endorphins that were released that drove him so crazy. Whatever it might be, the rogue loner wanted more. The sweet metallic taste filled his mouth, and teeth bore deeper into the flesh. It was a soft warm place for his fangs, and he wanted them to stay, only leaving to bite again and again. It was short lived, though cherished, as the pack wolf barreled forward. His pure mass was what made Heath stumble backwards, jaws and claws unlatching their hold on his flesh. The force of his forepaw raked against his chest as he moved backwards. And then, Heath gave the male enough room to breathe. His chest heaved, gold eyes watching as his head lay level with the ground. Blood tricked from his face into his open mouth. He didn't notice, licking at his chops for a very different reason.
A single question ran through his mind, ticking away with the seconds that kept him planted before the pack wolf. They both bled. Though Heath was certain that the nameless pup was hurting far more and knew that there was a good chance that the landowner would taste the blood of none other than his own. Licking the wounds as he hobbled away, thinking of the tawny and black male that stood up to his defensive interrogation. The question rang again. They stared, each deadly in their own right. But Heath had no plans on dieing this day, and even though his body pleaded for more his mind spoke loud and clear. The question, had he had enough?