Swiftcurrent Creek "i will lay my people down."

it was with no small amount of pleasure that the porcine-gazed creature stared stentorian at the dark dog that had so misstepped across his path. shardik was not a stupid beast — aware now that he was alone, and not alone, the long prehensile lips pursed loosely, revealing the yellowed cones of wide teeth.
dark dog dark dog dark dog — wolf, breath and blood and bone. shardik hungered. the broad pads of his forepaws shifted against the earth and their long claws were audible in their scrape. he hungered, and in the next moment, saliva flew in greasy globbets from the wide black gap of his stone-fanged jaws.
the dark dog cried in a strangled whimper as its body struck the ground, and shardik followed. in the half-light, the knives on the clublike feet lashed through the air, and came down to tear at the limping dark dog, the sable shape cradled hunching against the earth. and it was in the increasingly garbled cries that shardik found himself coming alive, and bellowed the story of the blood upon his shortfurred jaws. 
in time, ursine god departed the scene, dragging behind him the crumpled form of some long-legged fool, some craven thing that beneath the skies had lost movement and swathes of flesh clung-to by shadow-hued fur. shardik did not look back, nor did he pause. his pound of flesh had been paid and he saw no reason to linger in anticipation of the other dogs that would soon gather where he had seized and carried away their mauled and macerated fellow.