04-14-2012, 09:37 PM
The whining was still continuing. It was like carrying a tiny siren announcing his presence. Frowning he looked down at the bundle. He had to make that stop. The easy thing would be to just drop off the source of the noise and continue without it, but the coyote really liked the tiny thing. It was so amusing. Despite the fact that it kept squirming, forcing him to continually change his grip on it, the pup ending up in so many different positions it was hard to tell where head started and tail ended. Thunder struck, causing him to jump slightly. Over the pack border he turned around again, bidding adieu to the funny pack that had given him the odd bundle.
The sight that greeted him was terrifying. A white ghost stood there, poised for the kill. It leaped forward, drawing a scream from him. Dropping the toy he raised his arms, catching the jaws full on. Shaking himself he managed to rip free. He quickly snatched it up again and began running as fast as he could, blood running down his body. He didn't know that a bone had been broken, or that she had pierced a vein that would keep the blood flowing without stop, slowly killing him with blood loss. It would take hours for that to happen, but for now he was alive and fleeing, holding on tightly.
Reaching a stream the coyote paused for a moment. Finding a small stick he rolled it in mud and stuck it in the tiny creature's mouth. It protested for a moment, eyes wide and chewing around it. It must have found the contraption interesting though, as it stopped fighting to chew on it contentedly, the confusing environment forgotten. Continuing on the coyote slowed, panting with exhaustion. Why he was tired was a mystery, used to running for much longer times. He crossed through a stream, spotting a small den up ahead. He could crawl into there, wait out the storm.
The sight that greeted him was terrifying. A white ghost stood there, poised for the kill. It leaped forward, drawing a scream from him. Dropping the toy he raised his arms, catching the jaws full on. Shaking himself he managed to rip free. He quickly snatched it up again and began running as fast as he could, blood running down his body. He didn't know that a bone had been broken, or that she had pierced a vein that would keep the blood flowing without stop, slowly killing him with blood loss. It would take hours for that to happen, but for now he was alive and fleeing, holding on tightly.
Reaching a stream the coyote paused for a moment. Finding a small stick he rolled it in mud and stuck it in the tiny creature's mouth. It protested for a moment, eyes wide and chewing around it. It must have found the contraption interesting though, as it stopped fighting to chew on it contentedly, the confusing environment forgotten. Continuing on the coyote slowed, panting with exhaustion. Why he was tired was a mystery, used to running for much longer times. He crossed through a stream, spotting a small den up ahead. He could crawl into there, wait out the storm.