Mal felt his flesh rip and tear as Ziv rolled away, leaving a torn chunk of muscle where his shoulder was. Still, he didn't limp, didn't favor that leg. He balanced his weight evenly, watching and walking around her in a circle. Hearing the taunt Mal smirked, the corner of his mouth rising as he delivered his own. "Takže si priznať, ešte šteňa. Myslela som si to."
Crouching down, ready to pounce, he watched as Ziv launched herself into the air, rather than at him immediately. She was trained well, using her wings to her advantage, but she was built for speed, not strength and battle. The younger hound came right at his face and Mal danced to the side, a sharply clawed paw flashing out to catch her belly, raking the skin and drawing blood. He didn't want to go deep enough to disembowel her just yet. After all, she was young. He spun around, making sure not to leave his back exposed towards her. As ludicrous as it was, Mal was enjoying himself, the battle, the threat of life and death. He felt more alive and more himself in this moment than he had since coming to Tiberius.