tongues and teeth are equally sharp

The conversation had been causal enough: talk of odd humans they'd seen and mockery of idiotic scavengers dominated their exchange, neither of which was uncommon for them in the slightest. But then something had shifted, as though the air had suddenly grown heavy and suffocating above them despite there being no physical change in the atmosphere. Dorian broke the tense silence with the very reason for his shift in demeanor:

"Y'know kid, you're pretty fuckin' useless when you're not being used as bait." 

Jack wasn't sure there was ever a time when he'd been so quickly set off by a single sentence. He leaped to his paws, hackles bristling at the accusation as his lips curled into a vicious snarl. He'd had enough of his mentor's cruel remarks.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you stand up and fight me like a fucking wolf, coward? Use your teeth instead of your tongue."

"Why are you doing this, kid? What could you possibly hope to achieve by challenging me?"

"Well, when you believe someone's a monster, and you treat them like you think they deserve, maybe they'll become the monster you thought they were," he snapped venomously, ears pinned against his skull and eyes wild with fury. Anger had always been his most hated emotion, but dammit if it didn't feel good to voice his frustration directly to the source. Unfortunately for him, his impulse would not be rewarded favorably.

"Don't talk to me like you're above me, rat. You'd be dead if it weren't for me. Dead and forgotten." 

That was it, that was the final straw that broke him. Hissing as though the retort physically stung him, he launched himself at the old wolf, jaws parted and aiming for the jugular. He didn't need Dorian; he could survive on his own. The constant chastising and abuse were only weighing him down.

Dorian, for however elderly he appeared, was not as aged in his actions as one might assume. He reacted immediately, shooting to his paws and dodging just enough for Jack to narrowly graze his cheek with his teeth, retaliating by clamping his own jaws around the jackal's throat and pinning him to the ground before he could even realize what was happening. He held his grip firmly, even as Jack began to kick and struggle while he gasped for air frantically.

"P-p-please! Stop!" Jack cried through desperate thrashing. He could feel his neck growing wet as blood began to soak his fur - his veins hadn't been pierced, but he would certainly die in mere minutes if Dorian kept it up. He was going to die there at the paws of the closest he'd ever come to a dad, and no one would even notice. (He never should have snapped. He should have held his tongue, let the comment knock him down for a bit before he bounced right back to his usual self. It had always worked well in the past - why not now? Why was he so fucking stupid this time? He probably deserved to die for being so damn reckless. This was all his fault.)

Dorian didn't let up, and Jack breathed out a strangled "I'm s-s-s-sorry," as his vision began to dim. Fuck, why was he so weak? If Dorian didn't kill him for the attack, he might as well tear out his throat just to speed up the natural selection process.

"Don't ever disrespect me like that again, because the next time you do I won't be nearly as forgiving," Dorian snarled as he released his grip, Jack's blood dripping from his muzzle and teeth in a vicious display of power. 

'I deserve this,' Jack thought, 'I deserve to be put back in my place.' He doubted he could even stand on his own, mind foggy and world spinning due to blood loss (and perhaps shock, but he wasn't quite sure what the shock was from). "No, never. Thank you." His voice was ragged and it hurt to speak, but he needed Dorian to know it would never happen again. Needed him to know how grateful he was that he was still alive, even if he didn't feel the same appreciation in his heart. 

"Good." A pause while the elder studied the limp canine at his paws, as though doubting the truthfulness of his words. After several tense moments, he seemed to find something that eased his caution, continuing with: "Let's get back to the den." 

Jack knew better than to argue, forcing himself to stand even as blood splattered onto the sand beneath his paws with the sudden shift in position, stumbling in his struggle to remain upright. Dorian growled at the blatant show of weakness, but Jack was relieved when the wolf said nothing more regarding it. He wasn't sure whether it was a determination to prove himself or fear that kept him from collapsing on the way back to their den, but he was grateful for it all the same. (Anything to not give Dorian any more reason to kill him on the spot. Jack knew he already had countless reasons as it was without him fucking up again.)

When they finally made it to the repurposed hyena den they shared after what felt like eons, Jack hesitated to rest, waiting for confirmation from his mentor that it was okay to do so. The wolf gave a slight nod, silent as his bloody apprentice let out a sigh of relief and curled up in the back of the den.

"I'm going out," Dorian said as he left, but by then Jack's eyes had already closed as he slipped into a welcomed unconsciousness. He would deal with the repercussions of falling asleep before Dorian could speak with him tomorrow. (If he makes it through the night, that is. God, he hopes he doesn't have to wake up again.)