Moonspear Road kill has its seasons

He was right; before he was able to rise, someone grabbed him from behind, and before he knew it they were upon him.  His heart hammered in his chest as they filled his vision, and he had a choice here; submit or fight.  Titmouse was gone, in the wind, and he would gain nothing more from struggling.  So he stilled somewhat, still half-heartedly attempting to get up, but not moving to strike.

"He's m-"  the words, the start of an explanation, ended in something between a cry and a scream as Lyra's jaws snapped around his leg.  White hot pain consumed him, and his ears roared, but he did not pass out.  He was a cornered animal; losing consciousness would put him completely at their mercy.  Instead his jaws clamped shut and, chest heaving, he focused on not throwing up or panicking.  He only somewhat succeeded; just about every third word caught in his sense, the rest was a blur of fear and adrenalined pain.