Most certainly her Lord, this man who had the gall to call himself a King, was no more than a charlatan. He was a true beast in the way of the old ones; he knew the law of club and fang and had taught it well. She in her youth was only capable of learning through experience; a year had done nothing but promote what discipline was social, but not when her livelihood was threatened.
A wicked sound seeped through the air and to hear dark ears. Salvia pinned these flat against her head; a part of her mind still feared him, but this part of her was a minor fraction lost in the haze of the assault. Her body prepared for the attack even while her mind grappled with what was happening. She snarled as he lunged, and her feet scrambled against the uneven floor. Her toes sprawled wildly, but the sudden ferocity of his attack had caught her off-guard.
His weight struck her hard in the chest and sent her reeling. Both feet slipped from under her and she felt herself fall. Both of her hands lashed out; claws dug into his arms, high above the elbow. She dug into him even as her back hit the ground hard, sending white-hot pain up through her spine and chest.
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