Redhawk Caldera My independence seems to vanish in the haze

Titmouse was no warrior and he needed to admit that to himself at some point; his captor had been right about that, and in his mockery of the boy's behavior when Cassiopeia had bested him. Yet it wasn't a warrior's stance he took as he turned upon his Alpha. He had shot after Elwood with no intention of doing him harm (doubting himself even now, filled with rage and the sense of betrayal, of hurt and loss now that his friend was gone) and yet, his teeth made purchase with Elwood's shoulder. He bit down out of instinct more than true desire, feeling his teeth snag and tug, only to release a moment later when he understood the dire implications of this assault. It was a fluke that he'd  landed the hit at all - and then, in his moment of surprise as he let everything slacken, Elwood bowled him over.

Titmouse went down like a sack of bricks, landing on the shoulder above his broken forelimb with a squealing whine, and then rolled beneath Elwood on to his back with his good limb lifted to his clavicle. His paw protected his throat just in case while flashbacks of the fight with Green Eyes played hastily through his mind; his eyes were wide and full of terror, and his tail tucked so as to brush his pale exposed belly.