the first attack [o, sparring]

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    angel with a shotgun - johnny - male

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    to be honest, johnny wasn't much of the fighting type. sure there were many times in his life when it was necessary, but that didn't mean he enjoyed beating people up. there was just something about having someone else's blood, sweat, and spit on your pelt that made him shudder. whether it was out of disgust or fear he wasn't sure, but the main point was that he tried to avoid brawls for now. there had been a time where he had loved getting in fights with people, and practically lived to beat people up, but those days had passed a long time ago, and they were most likely not ever coming back.

    today happened to be a bad day in several ways. first of all, he was shit-faced. secondly, some idiotic squirrel decided to get stuck in his fur while he was sleeping, so he woke up to a flurry of claws and teeth. and not only did he have to deal with all the wounds, but it turns out the squirrel had mites on it, and he had to spend the last thirty minutes trying to wash them off. soaking wet and drunk, the canid stumbled into the middle of camp and let out a soft growl. "oi, f'kers!" he slurred. "any'ne wan't t' spar?"