The Sunspire Boojums, snarks, spectral goats

Your choice if it scrabbles free!

The best thing about being in the tail of the chase was you could cut every corner the others took, and that was the way this was going to end if Treason had anything to say about it.  The problem was if she didn't get a perfect strike, Treason wasn't going to be able to easily execute the coyote for its behavior.  But, like the cartoon, they were wily beasts, and in a chase there was far more of a chance she'd end up with a coyote's butt in her mouth rather than its neck.  Did she trust Wraen to do the job?  She wasn't sure.  They'd find out soon unless Treason totally flubbed it.  And there came the move.  Wraen dipped and the coyote dodged, so Treason moved to intercept.

It veered away from her as well, kicking up a lovely fan of snow as it tried to slalom a third direction on the slopes near the mountain's feet.  It was a tad bit too late.  Treason lunged, snarling maw arcing down on the coyote's hip, latching on to the muscles near the joint socket.  A pained yip sent the stolen meat tumbling free, flung a few yards away.  It wasn't the best grip, but it was enough that when combined with the wolf's momentum that the lesser canid toppled onto its side, practically bouncing on the snow surface as it tried to regain its footing and get away -- it had a better chance of that than it did of winning a fight against two wolves.  Treason yanked her head back, turning the coyote into a bit of a wheelbarrow, but the slim creature's flesh was pulling dangerously close to ripping free of her grasp.