Mount Apikuni The trouble is, you think you have time.

the ragged, choking, gasps of his maw were starting to strangle him. were it not for her attempt to latch to his foot, the ghoul likely could have choked to death on his own spittle while attempting to reap her. the stygian fiend was a creature that lacked a great deal of care for his own well being, but he knew the difficulty of a limb attack. it would slow him down and weigh heavy on his already sickly figure; if she were to latch hold of his leg, he would likely die. 

the ghoul released his hold on her and jumped back, stumbling against the movements of his own body and feeling the stones tear away at chunks of flesh on his feet while he attempted to regain his balance. once he had allowed for space to be between them, he felt he was at a disadvantage. the ghoul bared rotten yellowed fangs to the wolfdog and uttered a gutteral growl that slicked from the back of his throat like a threat from hell.