the world does not care about you or me

The chase resumed, disorderly and mussy. Scratch was alarmed by his bravado, petite mitts finding no friction. This is it. The moment this damned creature would die. Jaws hinging open like a vice, a metallic CLACK! echoed through the vale. Blood did not grace his tongue; did not trickle down his throat in a satisfactory stream. Kapvik's failure was palpable, etching his countenance into one of jaded rage. The result of this task kept coming back negative each and every time. Each failed attempt wore away at his perseverance. Okay. Two more times and I'll give up. Somehow, that restriction quickened his stride, hounding the fox with nips and savage growls.