03-26-2009, 03:51 PM
Brennt emitted a slight yelp as the white female dragged her fangs against lower jaw, but with that sharp pain, something overcame him. His dull eyes looked into hers, into the hate and desperation and indignation in hers, and gradually became more alive. He did not attack her again immediately, but backed away one step, his ears falling low on his skull, and his reddened lips pulling back over his clenched teeth, which were outlined in her blood. Slowly, the predator emerged, an expression of wary hunger on its face. The face that had been Brennt's did something very strange, becoming both more cunning while simultaneously becoming more primitive, more feral. The intelligence that was there...it was of an older sort than its rival's...cunning born of old blood, of instinct that ran strong and deep through its veins. Not just an interloper, it was a ravenous beast, and it would kill her if it had the chance.
Its next attack came faster, more assured than the previous two. The change in competence was extreme. The beast was not a master fighter, its technique was not perfect, but it had no indecision as to what to do. It was following a very old, very successful set of instruction. It would not hesitate or hold back. Words nor threats, promises nor lies could cloud its purpose. The smaller wolf was not slow, but with her injuries, she would be unable to evade the creature. It brought the fullest measure of frenetic, snapping, tearing, killing effort it could muster at her. She was too fast for the predator to take her face, but her flank was open, and it drove into her, fangs first.
Blood and straining muscles, scrabbling feet and low growls, everything swirled into chaos as the two wolves rolled and thrashed through the underbrush. A rogue branch hit the predator's eye, but it only redoubled its efforts. The white wolf, the same for all intents and purposes as the black one who had saved the puppy from before, would die this time, and somehow the suspended sensibility of the monster did not see through the illogic of that deduction. No, this would be the last battle, and there would be no interference the next time it came to feed on the young ones.
Its next attack came faster, more assured than the previous two. The change in competence was extreme. The beast was not a master fighter, its technique was not perfect, but it had no indecision as to what to do. It was following a very old, very successful set of instruction. It would not hesitate or hold back. Words nor threats, promises nor lies could cloud its purpose. The smaller wolf was not slow, but with her injuries, she would be unable to evade the creature. It brought the fullest measure of frenetic, snapping, tearing, killing effort it could muster at her. She was too fast for the predator to take her face, but her flank was open, and it drove into her, fangs first.
Blood and straining muscles, scrabbling feet and low growls, everything swirled into chaos as the two wolves rolled and thrashed through the underbrush. A rogue branch hit the predator's eye, but it only redoubled its efforts. The white wolf, the same for all intents and purposes as the black one who had saved the puppy from before, would die this time, and somehow the suspended sensibility of the monster did not see through the illogic of that deduction. No, this would be the last battle, and there would be no interference the next time it came to feed on the young ones.