Broken Boulder Crucible of Broken Blouder

Her scent was the first change and indication that he felt in that she would lose her composure and launch into action. At a glance his eye caught her imposing form and the wicked snarl she produced. It came from deep inside her chest and rumbled out as a sleeping dragon emerging from its cavernous home. He was taken aback a moment and he wouldn’t soon forget the ferocity she delivered here this day and if there was a tonight or a tomorrow with her - he would be certain to carefully tread. For the survivalist in him warned him dearly that to cross this she-wolf would result in an uncanny rage that he was ill prepared for. 

It was almost hard to believe, how such a kind soul could change in emotion like the snapping of a twig but there is was before his green gaze. She rushed into the open without thought or further hesitation. The act in itself was noble if not stupid that she hadn’t thought it through. Then again, how could a rational wolf not act on instinct when pups were being mauled right in from of them? Redmoon felt almost ashamed that he’d not done so first but there again, he never rushed things. Every moment of every day was a challenge in which to survive and that was what he was best at. 

For a moment the survivalist in him sparked a thought that - hey, she’d be able to handle the coyotes herself, this was the perfect time to turn his back and get out of town. The situation was being handled, no reason for him to draw things out. Likely the feral coyotes would see her coming and flee, for him to rush out there was silly. A tactical error even for then the raiders would learn the truth in numbers rather than keeping a card in the deck. A blatant lie and he knew it. The coyotes would see her coming and fight for their claim. They’d already killed the mother who’d likely have fought more ferociously than both Redmoon and Leila could, why not stick around and add another wolf to the tally. 

There was something that was to be known about Redmoon. He’d been alone most of his life, living day to day and struggling to get that far. He didn’t wake up every morning after a night of brawling. He woke up every morning after a night of scavenging and lurking. He was no coward - he simply took survival as an instinct. Now - rushing out into a clearing to avenge dead wolves - not his cup of crystal spring water. Everything about it warned against his will to survive. This was the way to find a grave in a shallow ditch - sooner rather than later. 

He already saw it forming, the primary attacker had been startled but was standing its ground while the other two spread out. As soon as Leila hit the leader then the two would come from the flank and she wouldn’t stand much chance. He swallowed hard. Was he about to let his first potential friend in this new world die just so he could ensure he woke up in the morning? 
‘I don’t think so,’ he growled from his gullet. Part of him laughed at his false determination. He was no fighter. Sure he dreamt of the day he’d grow into a strong wolf that could hold his ground but reality was harsh, though he accepted it. 

But he had her scent and he wasn’t about to let go, on top of that he had no intention of letting this continue. Perhaps if he could do it all over again he’d have begun his movement with a valiant howling charge or something dramatic - not this time though for he turned around and circled once, getting pumped up and the adrenaline began beating against his chest. The fire in his heart roared to life as the beast arose, it was time to see battle! He leapt from the hillside and cruised into the opening, the coyotes were locked in on Leila and with the earthen tones of his pelt he blended in well as he blurred across the distance at top speed. 

Ear flatted to his scalp, teeth barred in a silent snarl, low profile to take his opponent with a center of impact. He tore across the ground, dirt flung from him in a rooster tail. The seconds passed by though they were few and he closed in the blink of an eye. If the coyotes had a chance to retaliate they missed their chance and the left most wiry dog was slammed dead on. Redmoon rammed him, using his broad chest to pulverize the smaller canine creature, knowing that using his teeth at such speed had a chance to break them. The impact was so fierce that it nearly took the wind out of him as he ploughed over the first of the three coyotes, trampling it beneath his ever churning paws. Claws unintentionally scrapped and cut the unfortunate target as he was flattened by such a forceful blow. The thump of the impact sounded harsh and dull, something broke and Redmoon was pleased it hadn’t been him. 

Redmoon skidded to a halt and turned to face the downed mammal though the coyote was sprawled out and flailing, it couldn’t get coordination from its fore legs. He knew not why but in reality the coyote had lost all equilibrium and was temporarily stunned, though it wouldn’t be for long. In a victorious and very surprised pause, Redmoon let out a snort and grinned. His inexperience showing as he never saw the third coyote come. He was about to learn a very valuable lesson - if he survived. 

A dirt encrusted, mangy, coyote leapt onto the bigger wolf’s back, teeth dug into the back of his neck and fore paw mounted claws locked the coyote in place on Redmoon’s back. The red pelt yelped in both surprise and pain. They tumbled to the ground, dirt, legs and bodies rolling across the coarse ground. Redmoon finally got his senses back and his yelp turned into a fierce and ravenous snarl as the beast within his heart came forth. 

The real fight then began as Redmoon caught the haunch of the hind leg on his foe and yanked it from his back. They fell into a nasty melee, but with weight and size and the nature of his hidden ruthless temper, Redmoon was sure to come out on top. 

But even now, the stunned coyote was coming too and was surely going to go after his heavy hitting attacker.