Machidael is by Nat!
The rust-colored jackal did not comprehend the severity of his situation, nor his own woeful unpreparedness. Why would he, when he had conquered every foe put before him? He had run from fights, of course, retreated with the rest of his raiders and flew before Khayri, but those were different sorts of fights. Picking on the weak of the world was all he'd done thus far, and to have a foe competent enough to fight back surprised him. And truly, he didn't understand why he should be attacked -- they'd come to an agreement, and there was nothing strange or offensive within that agreement. Bodies and lives both were traded each day.
He wanted the knife stuck in the corpse, for he did not dare even swing a fist at her with the blades in play. But she was standing closer to the corpse of the deer than he was, and with his injured leg, he could not hope to move in and take the knife before she cut him once or twice -- or more times, if she opted to slash quickly rather than stab and he was truly unlucky. Hissing his frustration, the hybrid watched with frustrated crimson-colored eyes as she moved for her clothing. The russet hybrid took a shifting step, and jerked in surprise as the garment flashed between them, hiding her from his view. He hunkered down and raised a fist, thinking she sought to cover and tackle him while he was engaged in removing the thing. He'd let most of it pass over him and fling whatever covered him away with the hand.
She came charging through instead of leaping onto him, and Machi was surprised to the point of delaying his shoving with a shoulder for her oncoming body. He snatched for a wrist or arm with his opposite hand. It occurred to Machi he might even seek to bite, but the jackal sought to disarm before he stuck his face anywhere near her.
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