03-13-2012, 07:52 PM
When pulling away did not go as expected and the dog dug her teeth further into her arm, Alma forced herself not to whimper and give her opponent the satisfaction of a response. She bit her tongue until it was bleeding. Still, some noise did escape her mouth: hissing as she inhaled, and a low, pained growl when she couldn't make herself be silent any longer.
Her stance was sturdy enough to prevent her from being thrown about when her opponent decided to shake her arm as if it were a pup's toy, but unfortunately she was not strong enough to prevent her arm being pulled from its socket. A sharp pain tore through her, and the coyote's growling turned into a sharp howl. The pain so consumed her mind that she no longer paid any attention to making sure she maintained her balance, and was thrown against a tree.
With the wind knocked out of lungs, the coywolf did not move. Her yellows eyes simply stared at the approaching attacker, then fell to the unconscious male coyote that reminded her of her father. She wondered if he was dead, and if he was, whether she could have prevented it at all. She could not move her arm - although she could still move her fingers - and it was unlikely that she'd be able to drag him and the pups to the safety of Inferni's territory. If he was dead, was the fight pointless? Should she just pick the pups up and run? Anger seeped into her mind, at herself - for failing to prevent it - and her attacker - for causing it all.
Her eyes rose to look at the approaching canine once more. If he was dead, and she was about to be as well, it would do the puppies no good. She had to fight back, or at least distract the dog until she could grab the puppies and run away. The coywolf's unwounded arm felt around for something she could use as a weapon, and found a fallen branch. This she used to try to block the incoming canine's attacks, and to make a swipe at any part of her that came close. Fighting left her at a distinct disadvantage, but Alma thought she could overcome it with rage.
Her stance was sturdy enough to prevent her from being thrown about when her opponent decided to shake her arm as if it were a pup's toy, but unfortunately she was not strong enough to prevent her arm being pulled from its socket. A sharp pain tore through her, and the coyote's growling turned into a sharp howl. The pain so consumed her mind that she no longer paid any attention to making sure she maintained her balance, and was thrown against a tree.
With the wind knocked out of lungs, the coywolf did not move. Her yellows eyes simply stared at the approaching attacker, then fell to the unconscious male coyote that reminded her of her father. She wondered if he was dead, and if he was, whether she could have prevented it at all. She could not move her arm - although she could still move her fingers - and it was unlikely that she'd be able to drag him and the pups to the safety of Inferni's territory. If he was dead, was the fight pointless? Should she just pick the pups up and run? Anger seeped into her mind, at herself - for failing to prevent it - and her attacker - for causing it all.
Her eyes rose to look at the approaching canine once more. If he was dead, and she was about to be as well, it would do the puppies no good. She had to fight back, or at least distract the dog until she could grab the puppies and run away. The coywolf's unwounded arm felt around for something she could use as a weapon, and found a fallen branch. This she used to try to block the incoming canine's attacks, and to make a swipe at any part of her that came close. Fighting left her at a distinct disadvantage, but Alma thought she could overcome it with rage.