Yorick groaned under his breath as the other canine's grasp tightened on his injured paw, his eyes burning darkness at the man-child. Only the glittering, lost hope of being released kept him from snapping his jaws toward the childlike, pale face. The yellow woman was the one to speak, however, and Yorick realized they were going nowhere. Their only hope was to fight, and he was in no condition to do so. Darijus the dumbfuck would be lucky to figure out he had to fight. By the time Dari figured out that Yori had decided to strike, the smarter of the pair would be decapitated, and the larger of the pair would still be halfway to figuring out what to do himself.
The man gritted his teeth, still deciding what to do himself when the wolf clutching him cried out, apparently alarmed at the idea of harm coming to them. This threw even Yorick for a loop, and the dark-hued man looked in confusion from the pale man to the golden-yellow woman, his eyes swimming with murky pain. Darijus was even more confused, openly gaping from Yorick to the two strangers and back again, his head apparently spinning off its vertebral column.
Yorick did not think they would be safe from harm, but fighting was death, surely. The rest of the pack would be behind them soon enough, and perhaps if they got far enough away from their border, Darijus might actually stand a chance of taking down just the weaking boy and the coyote woman. Yorick calculated quickly, and grunted to his partner. I will walk, he snapped, albeit wearily. There was no fire or fight in his voice, but he wished very much for both of these creatures to think him defeated.
The man shifted slowly, painfully -- as his wrist twisted and reshaped itself, he yelped in pain, clutching fingers about the joint as soon as they had formed. There were too many sounds, popping and scraping. Had he broken it? The man held the injured wrist gingerly in his opposing hand, ears flatted against his skull. His Optime form wasn't quite was impressive as Dari's, but at least he could walk himself to his apparent demise. He looked to the golden-yellow woman and her pallid friend, still calculating his escape. Darijus was mute beside him, fright apparent in the big man now. He felt it in Yorick, and reacted accordingly.
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