05-31-2009, 09:46 PM
The predator snarled as the black female snapped back at it, the two of them snapping their fangs at one another. In the chaos, she managed to take the upper hand, and keep its jaws secured and away from her flesh until she could get back to her feet. The big brown monster did not hesitate to stay on the female as she rose. It pursued her as soon as she escaped its initial attack and began putting distance between them. In a flat out run it was slower, but in the immediacy of battle the discrepancy of their speeds was not wide enough to yield a significant advantage. It stayed on her tail, pressing her temporary retreat. It understood the benefit of pushing the opponent, the necessity of an attack to be quick and overwhelming, brutal and straightforward. The predator could not plan ahead well. It could lay simple traps, ambushes, it could stalk prey, it could anticipate movements, but it did not have elaborate strategy. This might be a significant weakness, save that the battles it waged left no time for such complex plans to be laid out. It did not need time to think, and so provided none to its adversaries.
Miriette's haunches were within attacking range, but the predator abstained from latching on with its fangs. That damage would be superficial. Instead, as it pursued her, it put on speed, and barreled into her, emulating the attack she had employed at the outset of the battle. It was so much more massive, that there was no where for the battle to go but into the dirt. It had forsaken its own footing as well, and in the mad scramble for the two wolves to right themselves, it found a large portion of flesh, and clamped down, hard. If this was the front of her neck, it knew it had won. If this was the back, it could keep her face in the dirt long enough to win. Anywhere else and the outcome was still uncertain.
Miriette's haunches were within attacking range, but the predator abstained from latching on with its fangs. That damage would be superficial. Instead, as it pursued her, it put on speed, and barreled into her, emulating the attack she had employed at the outset of the battle. It was so much more massive, that there was no where for the battle to go but into the dirt. It had forsaken its own footing as well, and in the mad scramble for the two wolves to right themselves, it found a large portion of flesh, and clamped down, hard. If this was the front of her neck, it knew it had won. If this was the back, it could keep her face in the dirt long enough to win. Anywhere else and the outcome was still uncertain.