Deepwood Weald weird flex, but ok.

Kilalurak rose up at an awkward angle and tried to clambor away from the silver-furred creature, yet even before she could settle back against the green, there were teeth. There was the sharp slicing of her flesh and tearing of pale hair — there was blood, there was panic — and she pulled her limb from the creature's grip with one motion, roared and slammed with the back of her bloodied, fisted paw at the creature, aiming for the teeth so as to disorient and dismay them from further attack.