05-01-2009, 07:18 AM
There is a good deal of power play here, so I need you to pm me to make sure it's okay, Requiem. I figured that when Cwmfen left herself open, something like this would happen. My thinking was that he would do most of his damage to her early, and then when she got up again (maybe during their thrashing she grabs the flesh under his chin, that would be painful enough and disabling enough--he can't bite her in that position--that he'd be forced to get off and she could get up? Feel free to go with another idea if you have one =P) the tables would turn and she'd start winning/making up for the lost ground?
The pup came running forward, and the black female raced after it. The beast's head remained low, ready to take the tiny wolf's life in one brutal motion when she came within range. This would secure the food for itself, and possibly end the fight prematurely. Surprisingly, the blue-striped she-wolf ran forward, snatching up the pup and tossing her away from the predator. She presented a flank to the monster. It did not hesitate. All hundred and sixty pounds of wolf bristled with feral power, and just as the pup left her mouth, sailing away through the air, the predator's hulking body shot into Cwmfen's smaller frame with terrible, merciless force. When wolves fought, they often held back, a fight for status rarely ended in death. The predator was not holding back, evinced by the sheer power of its jaws as they crashed together on the woman it had loved.
Its rushing tackle brought the two of them to the ground, where it stood over her, one foreleg planted firmly on her far side with the other three on her other. It knew how to pin an enemy, if it was given such an opportunity. Its enemy was vicious and experienced, her teeth were not idle and it could not ignore them. Its own flashed down again and again, as they had with the other black female who had tried to attack it over food the last time. Its own flesh tore, but its snout was longer, and it needn't endanger its eyes to attack her face. Over and over it attacked, merciless and wild, intent on her death. She wouldn't take its food. It would kill its competitors, and that was all.
The puppy was forgotten, the predator's love was forgotten. This she-wolf hadn't conceived anyway. She was a threat only, and it would remove her. She would die, and after she did, then it would notice the pup again and devour her. Every hair stood on end, its face was a mask of murderous intent, the massive creature was like some hoary monster that crawled from a nightmarish myth. It wasn't quite recognizable as a wolf now, not the wolves that lived today. Its attacks were not learned, the sounds of its furious labors were not curses or oaths or demands, they were roars, growls, barks...a creature with no connection to the social norms that protected wolves, even back before the virus. It was a being of antiquity, more than just a primeval wolf, it was a loner of an age forgotten.
The pup came running forward, and the black female raced after it. The beast's head remained low, ready to take the tiny wolf's life in one brutal motion when she came within range. This would secure the food for itself, and possibly end the fight prematurely. Surprisingly, the blue-striped she-wolf ran forward, snatching up the pup and tossing her away from the predator. She presented a flank to the monster. It did not hesitate. All hundred and sixty pounds of wolf bristled with feral power, and just as the pup left her mouth, sailing away through the air, the predator's hulking body shot into Cwmfen's smaller frame with terrible, merciless force. When wolves fought, they often held back, a fight for status rarely ended in death. The predator was not holding back, evinced by the sheer power of its jaws as they crashed together on the woman it had loved.
Its rushing tackle brought the two of them to the ground, where it stood over her, one foreleg planted firmly on her far side with the other three on her other. It knew how to pin an enemy, if it was given such an opportunity. Its enemy was vicious and experienced, her teeth were not idle and it could not ignore them. Its own flashed down again and again, as they had with the other black female who had tried to attack it over food the last time. Its own flesh tore, but its snout was longer, and it needn't endanger its eyes to attack her face. Over and over it attacked, merciless and wild, intent on her death. She wouldn't take its food. It would kill its competitors, and that was all.
The puppy was forgotten, the predator's love was forgotten. This she-wolf hadn't conceived anyway. She was a threat only, and it would remove her. She would die, and after she did, then it would notice the pup again and devour her. Every hair stood on end, its face was a mask of murderous intent, the massive creature was like some hoary monster that crawled from a nightmarish myth. It wasn't quite recognizable as a wolf now, not the wolves that lived today. Its attacks were not learned, the sounds of its furious labors were not curses or oaths or demands, they were roars, growls, barks...a creature with no connection to the social norms that protected wolves, even back before the virus. It was a being of antiquity, more than just a primeval wolf, it was a loner of an age forgotten.