[The slap, he could take. The slap was expected. -In fact, a bit of a smirk touched his lips at the response to his insulting action. Miguel doesn't even care that the back of his head bumped against the metallic leg of the cafeteria table again, or that some of the wetness of his own spit could be felt striking against his cheek. Physical pain is easy. -Much easier to confront and "deal with" than something like mental or emotional pain. Hell; most nights, Miguel would go out in search of the former just to drown out the latter.]

Rrgh-! [...But when his hair is harshly tugged as a means to force his head lower, Miguel can instantly feel his blood boiling. To be subjugated and humiliated like this was an entirely different matter.]

[Miguel snaps; and with all his strength, the large man jerks his head back upward. He strains against the pain felt when strands of his hair can be felt ripping from his scalp, but the Spaniard pays it no mind- save for a low, slightly pained grunt. He glares daggers up into Vulpes' eyes and thrashes his body around some more; much like the rabid dog he was accused of being.]

Better a dog... ngh- than a little bitch who wont see me in a real fight! [The leather strip of his belt cut fiercely into the skin of his wrists as Miguel continues to yank away at them; his hips thrusting upwards in another wild attempt to get Vulpes' weight off of his legs.]