Sharp Tempers
#23
Raoth looked up at the whimper, a smirk on his face. At least he wasn't making pathetic noises. Well, he couldn't anyways. Perhaps he would have been whimpering as much as the mutt was if he could make such noises. He decided to claim the win anyways. Tail wagging he leaned back, watching the sun rise in the sky. Their fight had taken some time, passing the sunrise when they had met and begun their battle. It hadn't been truly long, but enough for them to both exhaust their tempers.

The male he'd fought stood tiredly, huffing the whole way. Nodding Raoth stood, wondering why he was suggesting ways to help with the injuries. They had both battled ferociously with each other. Why was he suddenly trying to help Raoth? Shrugging the coyote limped back into Casa, deciding not to dwell on it. As far as he was concerned, he'd won the fight, and was ready to claim his laurels. If he managed to make it there without falling asleep.


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