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[hr][@RC3]

The moment the smell of blood hit Cull's nose, the starving young goblin was driven into a near frenzy. His split pupils narrowed in anticipation, his mouth began to water, his sharp canines glistened in the sunlight as a snarl formed on his lips. 

He pressed hard onto the spear's tip, keeping pressure on the struggling Stoat, Cull's left hand; already holding the near butt of spear, slid back so that he now held the butt itself, allowing him to put more weight behind the weapon.  His right hand quickly twisted to reverse its grip, that he could move closer to the stoat, while still having a firm grip on the spear.  Cull loomed over his quarry, his spear angled almost directly down into the stoat now-- the goblin's core flexed as he shoved his full weight and strength down into the weapon. His hands twisted the spear like a burrowing maggot. A mighty roar bellowed from his lungs, [Color=red]"gggGGGGRRRAAAAA!"[/color]