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The former god is once again victorious, as he should be, but there’s always bigger fish in the sea…or maybe smaller fish with big appetites…

When he steps in the ring, he watches his opponent, something small and fragile looking. He knows he shouldn’t underestimate the small and fragile…especially when he witnesses drool stringing from her lips. His brows furrow with both curiosity and interest, wondering what exactly is going on (or isn’t going on) in his new opponents head.

He doesn’t have much time to wait and find out because the wolf is booking it straight for him. He stands still, waiting for the attack, muscles tensing…and then he’s feeling teeth in his shoulder.

He snarls out a growl of pain, fumbling slightly at the quickness she hit him with and the feeling of teeth sinking into flesh. He would snap out at her own scruff or face, curling into her in order to reach.