Overture Downs the sun will come out tomorrow..

It was majestic the way he moved. Had someone been watching them they most certainly would have been mesmerized in his movements. If her flesh was not so alive with pain, she may have even saw the beauty of it. Her teeth had connected to his chest and with a small bit of confidence she found herself  struggling a little harder. It was no use, the small, stupid wolf had been too weak to overcome such a large creature and was almost crushed beneath his weight alone; he somehow had shifted it evenly among himself just right. Ilya could tell, it was the sport he enjoyed far more than the actual killing.

He spoke, and while his medieval voice she found quite suiting for his appearance, there was no time to think such things. Her ear shatter, if such a thing was even possible, the veins and skin and cartilage were mangled into a bloody mess inside his mouth and she had nothing to do but wail and struggle. In her struggles (most of which were only head jerks) she tore her head free of his jaws, what was left of her ear dangling bloodily from his grasp. A long whine followed as she found that this actually hurt far worse. But she couldn't find the fear in her to coward anymore. She had decided she was dead, by now, and so in a last spurt of courage she let out a growl. 

"I regret nothing," she spat at him, her saliva bloodied from her own attempt at a fight back.