Snippet #1520547

Finch was entirely in predator mode now, and as such the only think he could think about was sinking his teeth into flesh and violently ripping it off the bone. The fact that his opponent was a living statue didn't even register until he was finally able to clamp down on Karl's arm and found he couldn't get his fangs into it. Snarling in frustration, he lifted himself onto his hind legs, the statue hanging from his jaws like a rag doll. And that was exactly how the werewolf treated him, shaking him around roughly before finally releasing and flinging the combat instructor across the arena toward the far wall. See how he liked it.

Falling back onto all fours, his golden eyes darted around, though he only truly noticed a few things. One was the fact that he was boxed in, caged. That simply wouldn't do. Once he was finished here, the next order of business would be to get the hell out of here. Another was that his battle with Karl was being watched, apparently. Finch glared at the vampire girl, teeth bared. Maybe it was an instinct hardwired into his animal nature, but he suddenly wasn't too fond of vampires. And the feeling appeared mutual. The wolf shot her what could be considered the canine equivalent of a smirk, as if daring her to come down and try to stop him.

The last thing, however, was by far the most important: another were in the arena. The fact that Finch knew Kalista, that she'd been trying to help him, was irrelevant now. Wolves were highly territorial as a rule. And to have a cat within ten miles of him... he wouldn't stand for it. Turning his back on Karl, Finch edged toward the werecat, growling out a clear ultimatum: Leave now or die.