Sleeping Dragon Never gonna give you up

Sangilak felt the vibration of bone against bone, but had prepared for the jarring effect of it and did not so much as recoil. The hit had been heavy and true; the others body-weight yielded, and she heard the sickening thuds of soft body upon hard and relentless stone. Sangilak cared not the reason for the others trespassing, she simply cared that the other had trespassed. Ingrained in her was the reaction; Sangilak was more than a well-oiled machine. She was the creme of her mothers crop, and this was not the first being she had to dispatch. It would not be the last. Sangilak wheeled around, her weight and speed both making such a thing difficult. But she surged upward in a terrible sprint at a speed strange for one of her stature. It was not a speed that could be maintained for long, but she had been trained for this, and had practiced it even here when she could. 

That practice seemed worth it. The other struggled to rise, and the noise that came from the other was answered when again Sangilak came upon her, utilizing her weight to oppress the other and keep her down. Her fangs snapped at the smaller than she being that Sangilak now saw was wholly wolf. This changed nothing for the stranger. Her fate would remain the same. Death was the penalty of this, and Sangilak had no qualms in the sentencing of this, and was ever-used to swinging the heavy sword that felt light in her grip.