Moonspear everything the light touches

Then right back atchya, Mary Ellen! Let me know if I should change anything at all.

A pained yowl escaped the cat as strong jaws clamped around her paw. Rinn recoiled even as the wolf wrenched with all his might, and the cat's enraged cry of pain only grew more shrill as teeth raked through the heavy pads of her paws as well as the sensetive flesh inbetween. The two disconnected for a moment - long enough for Rinn to take stock of her mangled paw, which was now missing two toes.

Pain, panic, and hunger all warred within the feline. A weapon had been hindered, but not all of them. Limping, now, Rinn charged once more, and somehow her damaged paw did not seem to reduce the speed with which she moved - only the ferocity behind her attacks. She was wary, now, of that deadly muzzle, and the cat sought to disable it as soon as she could.

Pointed fangs flashed out, far-reaching and accurate as she bit at the dark wolf's face. Some would liken it to a hot knife through butter, the way the lines of red blood appeared so suddenly upon his face, but the action was far less smooth than that. Rinn could feel the flesh ripping, reluctant to give way under her teeth but unable to hold itself together - but only for an instant before she reeled back again, hoping to disorient the wolf. Before he could organize a counter-attack (she hoped), the cat rushed in once more, aiming this time for the back of his neck, and seeking this time to keep a hold of him.

The howl of a second wolf went unnoticed.