Blackfeather Woods Dancing on my grave

Her teeth clamped on fur, but before she could tighten her grip she was being puched backward. Her body met the ground with a dull thud, and she gasped as the breath pushed out her lungs. She held still, as her breath gradually returned and her breathing had slowed. She was trapped, perhaps in another fight she would have twisted and fought for freedom. But this was a packmate, and he was good. She smiled wryly, content to stay still a while longer. "You win" she said simply, but did not wait to move. She would wait until he released her, as trying to wiggle away was a sign of weakness, in her eyes.