Moonspear i don't wanna go home

He was a'wrigglin' like a fish in the air, butt swingin' like he didn't have a care in the world, despite charging full on into 2 pairs of jaws, not even one. This boy was so off his rocker, he could have conversations with dead things, and still be amused. Hell, why not?! They talked back! Who was he to discriminate against conversation holders? They had feelings too! Dead Lives Matter!

Off he went snapping and swinging his body like some lunatic. The yearling didn't know what to grab onto, nor did he knew what grabbed onto him, but he was a whirl, he was. To see the world's colors blur! No need to feel pain, but to just see everthing blend together in such a pretty smoothie of just stuff. He couldn't feel a thing in his mad little dance, despite him probably missing chunks at this point, but what mattered was he was having a good time. Are you having a good time? Have a good time. Have a good time, pLEaSe? Stop. And with that, he did. Stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in place like some statue.

Life came back to his limbs, but at this point there was no ignoring the pain. A gash hung largely from his left shoulder, and a piece of skin was ripped right from it. It stung, and hurt...hurt alot. Alot. Kyber looked to his shoulder's waterfall of red pooling down the dark blade, and that was the last sight he saw before was knocked flat to the ground. Goddamnit, Kyber, goddamnit! If you just would keep control...life...easy...nice...air...
He was being choked.
And all the pretty colors that once looked nice together,
started to fade.

The only thing the youngling could do was attempt a whine, though his oxygen was at an all time low, his dual colored tail struck to the section of his crotch that only a sorry whelp would show. Belly up, he squirmed under the dark wolf, the Terance that held his life at bay with a single vice of ivories.
His body began to go limp.