Broken Boulder Crucible of Broken Blouder

She had no conception of time, space, physics, reality, as she flew into the suprised body of the coyote. She was a terror, a threat that was considered too late. It was too late for the coyote to react, as she found nothing but flesh giving way beneath dagger ivories, and what attempted to resist was forcibly pulled apart by yanks between a killingly powerful duo of pulling with teeth and pushing with forelimbs. Shards of bones and sinew were crunched and shredded by a she-devil, merciless in her pursuit.

There was nothing left, a twiching mass of unspoken promise to any that cast an eye to what mess she had made. It was once a coyote, yes, but now it was a plump heap of congealed organs, matter and pools of blood. Never before was her pelt stained so tellingly, maw dipped in death's dew, scarlet staining her face and hide, rubies against a sheet of diamonds.

A glare over her shoulder was all it took for her to spy her next target. A stunned canid hobbled to it's fours, gathered it's bearings, and attempted to two-team the already dueling Redmoon. Leila dashed across the clearing, dominating the distance through long limbs and a fury of pace. Just as the damned dog reared upon the russet friend, her own fangs unsheathed once again from the no longer holy lips of her, and gripped with likeness of a beartrap upon the ruff of the coyote.
Backwards she dragged the mutt, like some demonic fiend out to return the condemned down below.

The coyote snapped and snarled, trying it's hardest to find anything that would free it of it's unseen leash, but Leila was untouchable through the angle she held the smaller canid by. Her fours spread apart as she braced herself for the cruel punishment, the torment, the end she would fell upon this worthless slog.
Tighter the grip she held, then her work began. Twisting her neck sharply in a semicircle, the hellion threw the coyote into the ground with a force unknown, but fully illustrated. Audibly bones cracked, as the dog pummeled into the ground on its side. Its hip bone was definitely shattered, no less, but she was nowhere near done. Again she rammed the coyote into the ground, this time on the other side, repeating the procedure, but reversed. The slew of snaps promised the same fate to the dog's other half. Leila returned the tactic again, throwing her prey onto the previously assaulted side, the body being a battering ram to the hardened dirt. Again, and again, and again she racked the earth with coyotes pathetic form, until nothing but a severed head remained in her bloody jowls.

Time had passed well over as she continued slamming shanks of coyote into pulverization. The head hung by threads in her fangs, the misture of fear and agony plastered forever onto the front of the decapitated creature. She wasn't there, standing amongst the rancid pile of corpse she had turned to shredded matter. Finally the head dropped from her lips, the thing landing with a sickening 'shlop' in the remains. But still she stood, still, as she attempted to regain what little sense of herself she had, if there was any left.