There had been a time when Ezekiel would not have so blindly rushed into battle. He had been taught better. Cwmfen would not have stood for such an unruly apprentice, but he did not live in her world. Ezekiel lived with coyotes, with warriors who had to behave in such a way because the world was cruel. Wolves killed coyotes. If he did not harness the savage within his blood he would never be able to face the cousin-species that he knew flowed in his own blood. It would always be a part of him; Ezekiel would always have the capability to become a monster.
His uncle’s movement came quickly, familiar only because of its brutality. Ezekiel snarled and jerked his face away from the snapping teeth, twisting his own body. It was meant to guide the bulky Secui away, but unused to his own body, this tactic did not work as well as he had hoped. Teeth hit the side of his face, grazing fur with saliva, only to snap again and grip onto the loose skin and thick fur around his neck. Furiously, the Hydra rolled his body to try and bring the red-pelted monster to the ground with him.
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