We were never soldiers
#25
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With bare pieces of seconds to react, Vukasin dodged to the side, again feeling claws tear through his fur and skin, as he lashed out with one of the sharp hunting knives he kept sheathed on his hips, hoping to score some points in relation to the demon's hind legs. He didn't want to kill him. After all, he was just defending himself from the crazy bastard of a wolf. He hadn't started the fight.



Vuk felt his muzzle crinkle up in anger as he used his free hand to prope his injuries. Nothing too major. He'd need a few stitches, and some antibiotics, perhaps. Nothing new. He'd been his own patcient many times since he had ended up on his own. Mismatched eyes glinted as pain from the gashes across his chest turned into adrenaline in his veins as he began shifting from foot to foot, never in the same spot as the moment before as he lashed out randomly with the blade, hoping to cause some confusion in the mind of his opponent.















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