05-10-2009, 06:39 PM
I hope this is okay. I assumed that he was free to react to her first attack, and then I filled in some details for the follow-up attacks you mentioned. I'm thinking that--for the last part--she fails to take his throat, but he fails to take her down, as well?
She had gone up and over. A less nimble, or less confident wolf would have failed in this, but the jump was not overlong, it only extended to just behind the massive creature. It swiveled around, bringing its jaws around clockwise to pursue her as she sought to face it again, but she was faster. Having not had the time to get lower than the beast, her jaws came in at an angle, taking it at the back right of the neck, and clamping down, hard. The creature's advance jarred to a halt, the pain was great, and the warrior did not stop her attack, two more times her jaws snapped closed, but the effect it had on the monster did not hold. Its neck was thick, more so even than was normal for a wolf of its height and length, and while pain and blood oozed from the wound, its adrenaline and killer instinct took hold again with alarming immediacy.
By her third bite, the predator was turning inward to their crimson embrace, nudging its head beneath her center of gravity, and taking a bite of her collar as her teeth ripped fur from the departing flesh of its neck, simultaneously moving its hind legs to be in-line with hers, and driving forward and up. Their forelegs were off the ground for a moment, and the predator moved into her, but she moved with a practiced precision that was superior even to its natural grace, and it failed to overbalance her. Rather than becoming a second pin, her flesh was pulled from its teeth, which had not penetrated terribly deep, and she managed to evade the following snap of its jaws.
The black she-wolf took to circling the monster, and it turned always to face her, letting her take the wide end of the circle, letting her do the moving, the walking, and a good deal of the bleeding, though it had lost its own share of blood, as well. It wanted to wear her down, a classic lupine strategy, and so far it believed it was performing so well. She made two, three more passes, and with each she evaded the crushing take-down which would end the fight in the predator's favor. She changed strategies, she attacked different locations, not always the optimal ones, and each time came away with less damage sustained than the monster. Nonetheless, she was paying for it. It had landed fewer attacks, perhaps its jaws had found her flesh once for every three times hers had bitten or strafed its own, but those jaws were powerful, and those fangs were long, and her movements were beginning to slow down, a marginal change which the predator would not have noticed had it been fighting using its conscious mind. Despite her size, she was leading the fight, contrary to its expectations, and it was slowing down itself in answer to its complaining body, but it was also slowly learning her ways, her speeds, her preferences. Alas, it was not learning them quickly enough. A counter-attack was necessary.
This time, the creature barreled straight on toward her, posture high to prevent another leap, but its jaws wide and its head at an angle. Taking its throat would not be impossible, but given its speed and the sheer inertia behind its moving body, it would be a slim chance. For taking this risk--for even if its throat was an unlikely target, it had exposed its chest--it had built up the force for a final tackle, and once the hopping about was over with, and their teeth were buried in one another, its girth would be more than a small black she-wolf could overcome.
She had gone up and over. A less nimble, or less confident wolf would have failed in this, but the jump was not overlong, it only extended to just behind the massive creature. It swiveled around, bringing its jaws around clockwise to pursue her as she sought to face it again, but she was faster. Having not had the time to get lower than the beast, her jaws came in at an angle, taking it at the back right of the neck, and clamping down, hard. The creature's advance jarred to a halt, the pain was great, and the warrior did not stop her attack, two more times her jaws snapped closed, but the effect it had on the monster did not hold. Its neck was thick, more so even than was normal for a wolf of its height and length, and while pain and blood oozed from the wound, its adrenaline and killer instinct took hold again with alarming immediacy.
By her third bite, the predator was turning inward to their crimson embrace, nudging its head beneath her center of gravity, and taking a bite of her collar as her teeth ripped fur from the departing flesh of its neck, simultaneously moving its hind legs to be in-line with hers, and driving forward and up. Their forelegs were off the ground for a moment, and the predator moved into her, but she moved with a practiced precision that was superior even to its natural grace, and it failed to overbalance her. Rather than becoming a second pin, her flesh was pulled from its teeth, which had not penetrated terribly deep, and she managed to evade the following snap of its jaws.
The black she-wolf took to circling the monster, and it turned always to face her, letting her take the wide end of the circle, letting her do the moving, the walking, and a good deal of the bleeding, though it had lost its own share of blood, as well. It wanted to wear her down, a classic lupine strategy, and so far it believed it was performing so well. She made two, three more passes, and with each she evaded the crushing take-down which would end the fight in the predator's favor. She changed strategies, she attacked different locations, not always the optimal ones, and each time came away with less damage sustained than the monster. Nonetheless, she was paying for it. It had landed fewer attacks, perhaps its jaws had found her flesh once for every three times hers had bitten or strafed its own, but those jaws were powerful, and those fangs were long, and her movements were beginning to slow down, a marginal change which the predator would not have noticed had it been fighting using its conscious mind. Despite her size, she was leading the fight, contrary to its expectations, and it was slowing down itself in answer to its complaining body, but it was also slowly learning her ways, her speeds, her preferences. Alas, it was not learning them quickly enough. A counter-attack was necessary.
This time, the creature barreled straight on toward her, posture high to prevent another leap, but its jaws wide and its head at an angle. Taking its throat would not be impossible, but given its speed and the sheer inertia behind its moving body, it would be a slim chance. For taking this risk--for even if its throat was an unlikely target, it had exposed its chest--it had built up the force for a final tackle, and once the hopping about was over with, and their teeth were buried in one another, its girth would be more than a small black she-wolf could overcome.