Ankyra Sound llosgi'r wrach a'i halen ei bedd

The violent means to an end did not bother the brute, and as his fangs connected with the trespassers back, he could feel his teeth sink into the soft flesh and find the rangy sinew underneath. The more that the stranger struggled, the more damage he would take. As the creature swayed drunkenly from side to side, Kierke loosened his grip and found that the struggling wolf had ripped himself away from the grip of his canines. A chunk of flesh remained in his mouth and he dropped it into the sand at his paws. The lurch had brought the wandering male back into a form of momentary safety. With bristling fur, the ghostly mercenary moved to block a potential foot escape.

Drawing his eyes toward Caiaphas, he allowed her a chance to take a chunk from their opponent. The reactions from the trespassing creature were strange, and Kierkegaard could not comprehend why the foolish brute would risk loss of life instead of the quick hand of the sea. The water slapped against them without a modicum of care, but it still stood as the stranger's only means for escape.