Overture Downs Let's raise some hell, shall we?

In the fury of the moment, Zugzwang wished for nothing more than the savoring of his assault; the spray of blood across the snow, the warmth of it between his digits, the shrieking of a wolf in pain — yet as he went for the mother, the child sprang in to action. What a pathetic attempt! He would have laughed has he been capable in that fleeting moment; he managed to grin as the mother buckled beneath his lunge but he did not continue the onslaught, instead turning his attention towards the child that was trying in vain to intervene. Wolves were stupid things and they bred stupidity in to each generation, it was glorious. The child was so small compared to him! So weak, but trying their best to distract him — it worked merely for the comedic effect that Zugzwang found in it. It might've been a horrible moment for the child, a painful one for the mother, but to the cat it was a game — bloody, horrifying, and sadistic, but a game none-the-less, and he would come out the winner.

The cat lunged again, shoving the mother in to the dirt with one kick of his limbs, and went for the dark-faced child. He misjudged the distance in his frenzy but swiped anyways, eager to feel the tiny body crumble beneath his mighty claws, and whether or not he was successful — there was an abrupt change in the atmosphere. His small ears twisted when the sound of a howl pierced through the air and Zugzwang was caught by the surprise of this additional body barrelling towards him. He would not yield; there was time enough for the agitated, hungry cat to strike at the child or turn back to the mother, but he had to choose quickly — and so he let the smaller creature go, and struck at Indra; she was closer, and a larger target. She was bloodied already and might just lose her life to his rage.

But, inevitably, this third wolf interrupted their encounter. He moved like gunsmoke; the cat was so focused on doing the most damage he could, that the wolf slipped through his periphery and came to the defense of the broken mother before Zugzwang could do much else. He felt the teeth of the beast sink in to some part of his body and he yowled, the assault fueling his anger more than anything. It hurt, and Zugzwang would be forced to reconsider his presence and his tactics, but he wasn't going to leave yet. If anything Stigmata's assault urged the cat to linger — it was one healthy wolf versus a giant angry cat, and Zugzwang was livid enough to forget about the real odds for the time being.

If he wasted too much time, he would be overwhelmed by the arrival of more wolves — but he needed to shake himself free of this fool, and his bloodlust demanded that he make the dark wolf pay dearly for the interruption.