06-18-2009, 10:17 AM
I was going to have him attack, but since he's catching his breath, I think it isn't fair to assume Dawali sits tight until he's finished. Dawali has time to think now, so it's your show, Marit =P Feel free to take the carotid. He'll keep fighting and we can look into the other later?
In the inky black, the predator did not see its enemy's charge, and was taken at the shoulder. Its stronger shoulder took the brunt of the attack, which meant that it needed its weaker to hold it aloft, which the weaker could not do. The large wolf toppled, and its smaller assailant on top of it. The growl roared skyward, reaching its crescendo as a vicious snarl. It twisted and rolled with its opponent, snapping back in turn, attempting to claim the same rage it had employed against the black she-wolf, but that rage was gone now. Exhaustion and pain were all that answered it, and what adrenaline it had left did little more than reduce the shock of the red-wolf's attacks.
Ultimately, the larger animal won out on the floor, and got its feet beneath it. From there, it brought its head down repeatedly, each dive terminating in a loud snap of its jaws. Sometimes it found flesh, sometimes it snapped shut on air. Once, its shoulder even gave out and it slammed its snout into the floor, but it stayed on. Attacking again and again, blood and hair flying in the wake of its fangs and it's opponent's claws. After a dozen or so snaps, however, its fervor abated, and the beast backpedaled until it felt its tail brush against the wall, and it lowered its hind-quarters as it panted. It did not have the energy to maintain that attack until the enemy's death...though it was the predator's preferred mode of attack, it was extremely draining...in its current state, that frenzy of chaos and brutality could not be employed to overwhelm its weaker opponent. It would need to employ something different, or at least take a moment to rest.
An arc of lightning lit the sky, and the two were outlined within the room, the beast hunched like a gargoyle atop a Gothic cathedral, the wounds on its head lending themselves to the image well. And against that massive, wretched monster, stood the slim intruder, bloodied but alive. The gray wolf's breathing sharpened. It would rectify that.
In the inky black, the predator did not see its enemy's charge, and was taken at the shoulder. Its stronger shoulder took the brunt of the attack, which meant that it needed its weaker to hold it aloft, which the weaker could not do. The large wolf toppled, and its smaller assailant on top of it. The growl roared skyward, reaching its crescendo as a vicious snarl. It twisted and rolled with its opponent, snapping back in turn, attempting to claim the same rage it had employed against the black she-wolf, but that rage was gone now. Exhaustion and pain were all that answered it, and what adrenaline it had left did little more than reduce the shock of the red-wolf's attacks.
Ultimately, the larger animal won out on the floor, and got its feet beneath it. From there, it brought its head down repeatedly, each dive terminating in a loud snap of its jaws. Sometimes it found flesh, sometimes it snapped shut on air. Once, its shoulder even gave out and it slammed its snout into the floor, but it stayed on. Attacking again and again, blood and hair flying in the wake of its fangs and it's opponent's claws. After a dozen or so snaps, however, its fervor abated, and the beast backpedaled until it felt its tail brush against the wall, and it lowered its hind-quarters as it panted. It did not have the energy to maintain that attack until the enemy's death...though it was the predator's preferred mode of attack, it was extremely draining...in its current state, that frenzy of chaos and brutality could not be employed to overwhelm its weaker opponent. It would need to employ something different, or at least take a moment to rest.
An arc of lightning lit the sky, and the two were outlined within the room, the beast hunched like a gargoyle atop a Gothic cathedral, the wounds on its head lending themselves to the image well. And against that massive, wretched monster, stood the slim intruder, bloodied but alive. The gray wolf's breathing sharpened. It would rectify that.