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Grackle was on the move again. The water had guided her steps, leading her southeast through the wetland until a new wood had unfolded before her. She wouldn't be staying here long, however. It was too much like home, and the once occasional nightmares had begun to torment her every resting moment.

The sun, a mere splinter amid skeletal branches, cast a cold glow over the landscape. She retraced her steps to the makeshift den nestled beneath an old tree, a chunk of meat hanging from her jaws. Grackle's mind was elsewhere, reliving her encounter with @Bonario a few weeks prior. Her body, still marked by the altercation, still protested against the mere prospect of hunting. Fortunately, in this valley shared by multiple packs, rotting carcasses were as plentiful as the wolves who called this place home.

With the meat hidden, Grackle squeezed into the earthen den, the afternoon chill seeping into the makeshift shelter. As much as she wanted to, she would not sleep, not now. The only thing that awaited her on the other side of consciousness was the nightmare that had been set on replay every night for the past few days.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the woods, Grackle's eyelids grew heavy. Memories, both recent and long buried, flickered through her mind like ghosts, and the cold, dampness of the den offered little comfort.

--

Grackle jolted upright, her head meeting the earthen ceiling with a hiss. Her heart threatened to escape its bony cage, and she feverishly licked at her fur. "I'm alright, I'm alright, I'm alright," she murmured, tearing out mouthfuls of black strands.

A rustling disrupted the night's quiet, silencing the droning insects and nocturnal calls. Grackle paused, her ears perked, and a low growl reverberated from her throat. "Who's there?" she barked, her frantic voice cutting through the sudden silence.

The sigh of relief at the familiar scent was ripped away as quickly as it had manifested on her lips. Muscles that had begun to relax moved on their own, throwing Grackle to the back wall of the den with an earsplitting scream as frenzied teeth gripped at her scruff. Bonnie? It was a yell, an exclamation as much as a question, eyes wide and heart pounding.

Confusion. Fear. Friend? Foe?

Stop! Bonnie!

Slowly, slowly, whale-eyed and ridged, Grackle emerged from the den, ears low and tail tucked. A pang struck through her chest- he looked awful. What in the gods' names had happened to him?

Ears perked to the whine in his voice, green irises traveled over the tense posture to come to rest on oak eyes, desperate and imploring. There would be time to ask later.

Ask before you bite, dickhead, she breathed, circling away from the tree and stopping in the middle of the clearing to turn back and face him.

Be careful of my leg, alright? I fucked it up last time. Don't forget your ears, Her voice was soft as she lowered herself into a crouch.

I'm ready.

Wouldn't dream of it. Grackle's voice was a low growl, filled with a mix of challenge and dark amusement as she readied herself for what was to come. The viper sidestepped his attack with the grace of a flowing stream, her body moving like a shadow in the night. She managed to evade the brunt of his assault, but his shoulder collided heavily with hers. Razor sharp teeth missed her scruff and grazed her flank, sending a searing slice of pain through her body as warm crimson bubbled forth, matting her oil-slick coat.

The coppery tang of blood sharp in her nostrils, Grackle retaliated with fierce precision, gritting her teeth against the pain. She lunged forward, her jaws clamping down on his shoulder with a vicious snap. The taste of fur and flesh filled her mouth, the resistance of muscle and sinew beneath her teeth a testament to his strength. If he wouldn't hold back, neither would she. Only the weariness in her body kept her from breaking her own teeth crunching through his bone.

Leaping back, her adder-like gaze never wavered from her target. She attuned herself to every heaving breath, every twitching muscle of her opponent. The clearing filled with the sounds of their panting breaths and the rustle of leaves underfoot, punctuated by the distant call of an owl.

If you lose your head, you'll also lose the fight. Focus up, Bonnie! she barked. There was no anger in her tone, only instruction and steely determination.

Grackle braced herself for his next onslaught, every sense heightened. She could hear the thudding rhythm of her own heartbeat, feel the cool night air against her heated skin, and smell the heavy sweat against the pine and decaying leaves.

She would meet his next charge head-on, colliding with bone-jarring force as teeth snapped shut on empty air with an audible crack! With a growl, Grackle spun around, using her momentum to aim a powerful swipe at Bonnie's head.

Grackle's muscles screamed in protest, still inflamed from their last clash, and her vision blurred at the edges, but she refused to give in. She lunged again, her movement already growing sluggish.

It had been months since Grackle had savored a proper meal, months since she’d experienced the luxury of a full night’s sleep. Her body was running on empty; their last clash had drained her reserves, leaving her desperately trying to pour water from a pail that she refused to admit was bone-dry. Her once-powerful frame now felt like a ghost of its former self, tearing apart at the seams.

As they fought, Bonnie's relentless assault shredded her, ripping great clumps of fur from her back. Each savage yank sent fire coursing through her veins; scabbed wounds reopening with a sickening pop. She couldn’t stifle the cry of agony that escaped her throat. She circled him, breath misting in the frigid night air, desperate to buy time, to scrape together whatever strength she had left.

Bonnie's head crashed into her chin, and she bit down hard on her tongue. Blood filled her mouth, pain shooting through her like lightning, dazing her. Speech was impossible now—pink-tinged saliva foamed at the corners of her mouth, splattering across Bonnie as she clung to any semblance of control.

Grackle was slammed to the ground with vicious force. Her head felt like it was splitting open, history repeating itself as she found herself prone beneath snapping teeth once more. She tried to speak, but only rough, choking coughs emerged. Floundering on the edge of her endurance, she grasped and pummeled with her hind legs, her vision swimming and darkening at the edges, then growing darker still. The world around her began to fade, her limbs turning to ice, her strength draining away like water through a sieve. Grackle's blows grew weaker, her legs a twitching heap beneath the man. Her once fierce green eyes dulled until she could no longer see.

In her final moments of consciousness, she felt a strange sense of calm, a fleeting clarity amidst the chaos. She had fought with everything she had, against the odds, against the pain. And as darkness enveloped her, she could only hope that Bonnie would realize that this time, she had not stopped of her own accord.

Green eyes flashed open. Grackle attempted to sit up, mind fuzzy and vision a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. Her head hit the ground again, breaths coming in ragged, greedy gasps that turned into harsh coughs. How long had she been out? Minutes? Hours?

Her gaze roamed from doubled rocks to tripling trees and finally made its way to dozens of dusty coats. A laugh gurgled from her throat, passing through lips that split as they were drawn taught. Glad to see you stuck around, she mumbled slowly, sandpaper tongue passing over her muzzle. I was afraid, Grackle wheezed, I was afraid I'd wake up and find myself stuck with some other asshole.

She paused, eyes glazing over as her thoughts drifted sluggishly. Or maybe I'd find birds trying to take my liver, she laughed again, nearly choking on the sound. I dunno, she muttered, attempting to lift her head with a groan, only to fail once more. Seems like there's still time. I might have gone a little too far this go-around. She grinned sheepishly. Must be nice to have a pack, you don't have to worry as much.

Thanks for not killing me...Again... Or leaving either, I guess, Grackle rasped, trying to catch his eye. How are you feeling?