Panther Park good bone structure

He could still feel the warm pulse of blood from where the beast had punctured the flesh of his hip. It had stopped bleeding of its own accord, but in the process Mou felt more and more light-headed as he scrambled through the dark; whether this was from blood loss or the air thinning, he wasn't sure. For a few hours at least, there was silence. He could feel his beating heart and the pounding of his head, but there were no more booming voices, no more reaching, stabbing shapes in the void around him.

Still, he dared not let himself feel content or safe. As long as he was stuck in this system of corridors and dusty rooms, Mou knew he was only running from an inevitability. The creature would corner him if he didn't get out — but where was out? How could he find his way when there was literally nothing for him to go on?

Things changed when the scent of water touched his nose; he didn't know how long he'd been on the run but he knew he was exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and in all likelihood, dying. There came the familiar smell of dampness in the dark — and Mou didn't want to believe it to be real, didn't want to give in to the hope that kept him from giving in to his growing despair. He ignored it for as long as he could, but when his paws began to slip across the ground he knew he had found something of great importance.

There were pools in the darkness. They smelled like mud and slate, and when he dared to pause long enough to probe a puddle with his snout he found it surprisingly deep. The water tasted terribly but the boy was in such a desperate state that it didn't matter; he gorged himself, only to turn and vomit against a nearby wall when his belly couldn't take it.