Heron Lake Plateau improve his shining tusks

Nope, apparently they weren't gonna be smart about it.  His pace did not falter, and soon after Ceara latched on to the stranger's neck, Quixote slammed into Nashoba as well, ripping in to the side of her neck, her shoulder, basically whatever he could reach, thrashing his head from side to side to try to rip and tear while ignoring basically whatever pathetic damage that could be done to his face or neck with Ceara hanging off her neck and restricting her movement.  This was certainly one of those times where he was operating by instinct and not a conscious mind, tunnel visioned in to the damage he was doing, and it was only when the brown figure dropped away that he paused, acidic eyes locked onto the dead or nearly so wolf for any signs of life.  None.

It was only when he was certain of it and his breathing returned to normal did he really paid attention to the rest of the scene -- that Caiaphas had showed up even later than him to defend her kid, that Ceara had scrammed without a word.  He'd gotten a nice coating of arterial spray, not that it was too visible on his dark pelt to add to whatever he'd collected from the damage that he'd done and had been done to him.  He remained standing over the body as he tried to figure out what to do next.  Haul it off back past the borders probably.  Meh.  Quixote was still very much on edge, his fur still spiked in every direction, his lips twitching as he leaned down to sniff at Nashoba once more before looking to Caiaphas, then briefly for Svalinn.  It wasn't like this had put him in a very chatty mood.