The small head popped like a grape between Logan’s teeth. He chomped the body reflexively, hardly noticing the juicy taste as he stared balefully at Cole’s wide back. Cole was the leader, and had been for the past two years. Bone crunched between his teeth, and the large boy thought about the injustice of that fact. His left ankle twinged with remembered pain, of how the limb had been damaged when Cole took the tribe from him.
Blood trickled down his chin, and he growled low in his throat. The only reason Cole hadn’t killed him back then was that Garry was still loyal to Logan, and if Cole had killed him, the large quiet boy would have sought retaliation. Even though Logan hadn’t won that battle, he’d done enough damage to Cole, that Garry could have destroyed him. Perhaps the only reason that hadn’t happened was Garry’s silent nature.
Garry was the largest of the boys, and by rights would have been the leader, he simply didn’t have the personality to match his brawn. He’d been born a follower, and Cole knew the danger in killing such a powerful follower’s leader. So Logan had been given a reprieve, and was still strong enough to maintain a grim hold on the second position, but he never forgot that he’d once lead.
He flexed his ankle, testing its range of movement and bared his teeth in a bloody grin when it moved smoothly. The time had come for him to retake his thrown.
With a bellow, Logan threw himself at Cole’s back. The large boy twisted instantly at the warning sound, and caught Logan’s doubled up fists to the top of his back, instead of the back of his head, like Logan intended. A roar of pain echoed though the plains, calling the rest of the Grey’s in. Both large boys began grappling, huge fists slammed into each other as they fought a nasty battle for supremacy.
None of the other tribe members interfered, instead they watched, hooting and shouting for their preferred leader as saliva filled their mouths. This battle wouldn’t end in a draw, they knew, tonight the tribe would feast.
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