Emberflame Ridge skill, not emotion, sends my arrow flying

     Embry scowled at his haste. Indeed, it proved to be only a hindrance in his tactic. Sprawled forward now - just inches from the successful tag - he was forced to recoil at the sight of glinting, pearly daggers near the soft, exposed flesh of his face. That would not do... He would find another way.

     Undeterred, he continued the motion forward; tawny honey-ochre fur bristling with newfound vigor. The momentum from a short punch of his hind legs carried through as he dove forward upon the final bound. His last-moment correction was sufficient in lifting his trajectory to find contact with her outstretched snout. He met her snapping jaws with a hard thud of his shoulders.