Apparently somewhere beneath the sleepy surface and constant coldness there lurked a berserker within Uruloke, and while it had not quite surfaced, the potential was there and it was closer to putting in an appearance than it had ever been. At any rate, Loke was more or less beyond reason. Even if Jvala had taken her words back, at this point it wouldn't have made any difference to her brother.
Loke was a furry fury. He did not possess a great deal of natural talent for fighting, though, and even though he was a little larger, he didn't know how to use that to his advantage. Instead he tried to be everywhere at once, which was quickly sapping his energy, and though he wasn't fully aware of it his breath was coming in quick panting gasps. He would probably keel over all on his own shortly, though he was not really cognizant of the risk.
Instead, he decided it would be a good idea to roar ferociously. Probably no actual thought went into that decision at all, but that was the one he came to. Roaring was intimidating and fierce. People who roared weren't the sort of people others called cowards. Not if they had any sense. In the future, when asked to defend his choice, those would probably be his words. Because when he drew in his breath to get ready to roar Loke found himself coughing, hacking, and almost choking.
To make matters worse he placed his paws wrong - or so he would later claim - and fell flat on his belly. At least that stopped the coughing, but it also left him completely breathless and helpless. Uruloke: the Self-Defeating Firekin.
