In exchange for the ease of finding prey, summer presented unrelenting heat. Despite shedding, Tychon’s thicker and slightly longer fur surrounding his neck and chest caused him to huff continuously in desperate attempt to cool himself. And now, after healing, his breath was even more wheezing because of his half-missing right upper lip that had been ripped off in spring by a white wolf whom as suddenly as he’d appeared, vanished. He left Tychon’s canines exposed, furthering his hideousness even if the fact that he once had a cleft lip was less noticeable. Along with the scars on Tychon’s cheek and the wounds he received from the white male’s accomplice, a thin, deadly female, on his right rear leg made the young male look lop sided. His fur would eventually cover the healed, bubbled skin of his right haunch, but the fur on his lower leg would likely never hide the rakes of wolf teeth there.

That day, he’d been sure he was going to die. However, he somehow had managed to drag himself into a pack land, where they helped him. He returned to the wilds as soon as he could catch a rabbit on his own. Partially, revenge drove him. He wanted to rip out each one of the white wolf’s teeth and hear pleading screams from the female when he scratched out her single eye. However, by the time he was stalking the free lands again, no traced of the two could be detected. Tychon had turned to the mundane with more savagery than he’d ever had before because of the rage pulsating in his veins.

More like a mindless creature, Tychon squeezed the life out of the throat of a raccoon as its hands pushed desperately against his face. The tree around him seemed to sage their branches, attempting to hide him from the world. As he bit into the food, though it filled his belly, it was tasteless. He had little appreciation for anything anymore. His eating habbits were forced to change with his missing lip, and instead of ripping and swallowing, Tychon tossed his head back and snapped morsels out of the air. The new habit of eating was difficult and still took a lot of concentration, otherwise the brown and cream male missed his target. As such, he failed to detect the approaching male.

The new arrival came at Tychon’s good side - the left, specifically the left hip. The warning sounds of an aggressive growl and the alarming cracking of leaves and brush sent Tychon’s heart into a frenzy. He knew this scenario, having been assaulted in a similar manner only months before. Tychon assumed the wolf was after his meal; despite having been attacked previously for the sole purpose of mutilation, Tychon knew the odds of natural better than to give into his paranoia. Still regaining mobility in his right leg, however, he was unable to appropriately pivot. This was revealed when the leg stiffened when he shifted his weight backwards to test it, and concluded his only option was to jump forwards. The wolf got a nice mouthful of chocolatey fur as Tychon leaped forwards. He spun on his forepaws to face his assailant.

This maneuver revealed the damage of his face. Tychon’s back looked like a serrated blade because of his ridged hackles. The snarl on his face achieved severity not only through the wrinkling of his intact lip, but also through the sharp zigzag of the remaining skin on the right half over his muzzle. Fury compelled Tychon to combat rather than confidence. He was not an experienced fighter and had only been in brief scuffles with his father when he was a yearling. He went for the white-backed male’s face with a series of chaotic, feral snaps intent on causing pain and shredding skin.