He is smaller than I, built more like his mother perhaps and yet, he is from fighting stock. It is difficult to not size him up as a competitor, some threat, and yet I must suppress the desire to do so as I charge for him, quelling the heat of my blood with the cooldness of rationality: we are both aware this is not real, and so, I ought not to grow hasty or give in to instinct. I do not think of Heyel nor Samhain nor any other as I do so, surrendering only to the thoughts of that of an alpha: investigate, learn and delegate. Thor, I feel, is not the kind of wolf to perform as Underidge or even Inanna does and so, I must find him a place where he will serve the classical definition of pack. He will be a protector after this, an escort and a watcher. We are safe beneath Underidge's watch because he is not bound by honor but Thor? I feel he has that. Perhaps that is a good thing to balance these things out.

He ducks low, instinctively, and I allow myself to graze over the top of him, pivoting swiftly and shoving away as I see the momentary flicker in his face as he tries to work out just what is happening. I cannot help but feel a canine tooth slip out in amusement, a snaggled grin as my own head swings low and defensively. I intended to move for him again when he took the initiative, dashing forward and aiming low. He goes for a leg, a smart move despite its predictability, and so I allow his teeth to graze the skin; while he's close, I move my head up somewhat, lurching forward in order to pull a tuft of fur from the point where his neck meets his chest over his left leg. An eye for an eye and yet, had this been real, he might very well feel the agony of a neck unwilling to obey a command. Still, I am pleased with his efforts.

With a sharp jab of my muzzle, I swing my head beneath his neck, aiming to force his head up and away from me as I recoil backwards, nipping at his paws while I back away, almost amused by the idea of making him dance just for a moment in an effort to avoid me. And then, I pivot, throwing him a momentary glance of challenge and with that, I am off.

I take off instantly, a sudden burst of speed as I move into the forest; I weave between several tightly coiled roots, a challenge for unskilled paws and then, I sprint towards the coast, a challenge for him to test his own speed and agiltiy as I dash through roots and bushes, narrowly avoiding the jagged edges of broken branches and rocks at times. After all, not everybody sticks around to fight and one day, he might just need to utilize this lesson.