As the words were spoken his face grew grim. Serious as if his life, and the life of every sacred soul in the male's life depended on it. There was no laughing as he looked into the blue eyes of the beauty standing before him, and stumbling backwards. He knew better then to strike first, begin a trespasser and all, but it was also part of his game. he wanted to know exactly what he was dealing with, the level of strength, power and aggression all needed to be measured. Heath took the voice and evaluated it, watched his body and let the fist hit his face. All in order to truly know what type of man he was facing.
The pack wolf aimed and fired, his white hand curled into a meaty fist hurling towards his face. Heath became tense, rising to the balls of his feet and raising his own round clenched fists. The paws did not come high enough to protect his face, just enough to be prepared. The tawny male felt the pain rush to this face as the fist made contact, sending his head sideways slightly. The gold eyes closed at the impact, but then shot open the moment his fist slid off his fur and downward.
It was a formidable hit, though he had felt more powerful blows. It was obvious that he did not fight often, aiming for his hard cheek bone instead of the more sensitive and pliable temple or thin jaw bone. It was an easy mistake to make, and to many it would mean nothing, but to the fist fighting male there was weakness in his strike. It drove Heath to choose his move, one that would show the other how to bow to a true fighter.
The forward motion was what Heath was waiting for, the drift closer to his lean and thin body. The other male would feel the satisfying crack of his cheek beneath his knuckles, but would inevitably fall forward with the effort. His mouth curved again, though this time pain accompanied his smile. A step in, and his black gloved fist propelled from below rocketing into the curve of his waist. Free paw moved to clench his shoulder in order to steady the target.
table by erin
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