JONAS-

Don’t take this personal. I like your digs the most.
We’ll do this the old-fashioned way,

Five posts each
Three day limit between posts
If I win, I may demand no serious bodily harm or death from you. If you win, you may demand no serious bodily harm or death from me.

No word max.

Winner take all.

You have three days to agree, forfeit, or propose a modification.

-NOIR

The weather could not have been less opportune. There was no great storm on the horizon, no foreboding wind, no howl to usher in the shadow of great clouds which would pepper the atmosphere with impending danger. No, in fact the sky was virtually clear, the sun was brilliant, even the birds seemed to be relishing the beauty of the easy early summer. In all it was an early afternoon completely contradictory to his aims, because he was a grown dog, if not an aged one, and he knew how a challenge was supposed to work. This weather was all wrong, his approach was as well, and when he arrived, his presentation would be laughable in comparison to the great bellows and proclamations expected. But there was nothing to be done. Noir, after all, was an unexpected and unconventional prospect for a leader.

He entered the territory from the side, under a part of the chain link fence which was bent upward and obviously often-used, considering the amount of old hair (and blood) which was stuck to the lowest points. The brown dog scrabbled gracelessly beneath, tucking his ears to protect them from harm, and emerged onto the dusty parking lot with nary more than a stiff snort. The smell of the territory was prevalent, though not overwhelming, and nothing that he supposed several days’ maintenance couldn’t cover. At any rate, there was something else to be done first.. and rules of engagement dictated that this ‘something’ was for him to call out the alpha dog. Ah, no. Too conventional.

Noir trotted around what was left of the back wall, his flank brushing occasionally against it until he reached the steps to the back door and was forced to draw away. In a convenient turn, the door was only just open. He edged it with his muzzle, and passed into the darkness. This was the only time he hesitated, just long enough for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, which was itself exacerbated by the boards on the only window in the tiny foyer-of-sorts. His steady breaths were complicated by the dust of the place, and he wrinkled his muzzle against the coat of it that lined his tongue. Time to go. With a stiff lurch the dark dog leapt to the lowest of the nearby steps, stabled a bit when one his paws landed incorrectly, and then shouldered up them in a series of bounds.

The second floor was much preferable to the first, light was certainly more ample and the dust was less, but he did not stop to admire it. There was a certain tension along his shoulders and back, because- hell he could admit it- he was a bit nervous. The pack was rumored to be the bastion of all things mad, and that left him with the preoccupation that he might be assaulted groundlessly. Then again, he was trespassing. ”Come out, come out, you sick fucks!” He did not wait for them to come to him, but clipped off the bark and trotted onward, tracing the perimeter of the second floor before he found another set of stairs and ascended these too. The dog repeated this gesture on the third floor, pacing himself and sniffing gratuitously for the first sign of anyone who might arrive to question him. Taking over a pack was a relatively simple matter, one which came with too much fanfare and needless activity in their fair city.

It was just about intimidation.

”Come on, anyone! Who’s got the biggest balls?”