(--)
Machidael is by me!
The pale coyote scrambled out of his grasp and away from him, losing her balance with the kick, though it delivered no damage. The rust-colored canine sat up with a growl of pain, his hand clutching at his chest. He was quick to scrabble to his feet, though, expecting her to rush in again. It surprised him when she did not, and instead retreated. Machidael hesitated a moment, glowering at her and almost thinking to let her go -- until he realized his horse and other things were back in the direction she was headed.
With a loud curse the chestnut-furred jackal started off, intending to chase after her. When his injured leg hit the ground, however, Machidael knew he would do no chasing. His eyes scanned over the ground and fell on the corpse of the deer, long forgotten. He hobbled toward it as quickly as possible, throwing the injured leg out to increase his stride despite the sharp bite of pain it gave him. The skirt he wore was torn near where the knife had nicked against it, and the slick of blood ran almost to his knee now.
His crimson eyes searched the corpse for his knife and found it, knocked aside and close to the animal's rear hoof. Machi grabbed it by the back of the blade and cocked his arm back. It was his knife and he knew its weight -- and also that it was not meant to be thrown. He launched the already-bloodied thing at her with his good arm, not particularly caring if he hit the stot instead. It was worth his while to at least try, and if the horse died in the process -- well. Maybe it would be better if she left, but he considered that too late -- the knife was already in the air.
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