Ouroboros Spine surman suuhun

surman suuhun means "into surma's mouth", as if the victim was mauled to death by surma — a terrible beast in finnish mythology that guards the gates of tuonela to prevent escape

it is always after spending time away from the teekon wilds that wintersbane finds himself drawn back to it. it is inevitable; like the lure of a moth to a flame. there should be no reason to come back and yet he does, again and again. it's almost like an endless treasure hunt: he searches despite coming up empty pawed and maybe not entirely but what he does find is fleeting. like his current companionship: the acquaintance that shadows him now as they move through the spine's sparse trees, tracking the fawn they'd caught the scent of earlier. wintersbane doesn't trust the older male. not really. he expects the other to leave ...and if he doesn't wintersbane plans on shaking him, himself. since choosing to disband what little of the vartija he'd managed to gather he wasn't very interested in gaining followers.

theirs was one of convenience. two were better than one ...at least as far as bigger prey was concerned. they track it down and wintersbane makes the killing blow. finally, we can eat. wintersbane tells his companion, salmon pink tongue drawing across his jowls. attention focused on the felled fawn before him he misses the look sent his way and catches the movement of the charge from the corner of his eye. confusion and taken off guard wintersbane tries to absorb the other male's blow with his shoulder. travel has waned him down a bit and hunger distracts him, stealing his full attention from the grapple. the grapple that he realizes as teeth snap wildly for his face is serious — finding purchase above his brow causing wintersbane to snap at him in turn.

the adrenaline numbs the pain even as claws swipe down his face in territoriality over the felled fawn, trying to distract wintersbane with pain as he collides with him again. wintersbane is winded and staggers to the side, trying to regroup, hesitant on whether he should continue defense or switch to offense. he takes too long and teeth snap wildly at him again, this time latching onto his throat. he thrashes in the other male's grip, trying to break free as panic washes over him and threatens incapacitates him. panic followed by relief. so, wintersbane thinks, maybe this is how it ends, as he gasps for breath, a low growl rumbling and cutting off, a sharp whine of pain ripping from betwixt gritted teeth as the other's teeth tear at the flesh of his neck. wintersbane blindly manages to wrangles himself free, and lunges, tearing a chunk out of the other male's leg as their fight inches them closer to the ledge.

something spooks his attacker — ex companion — and wintersbane sees the opportunity. he seizes it in the next moment, throwing his weight against the other male and the pair topple over the ledge together, a tangle of tearing teeth, scrambling paws and tangled limbs. the fall isn't terribly far — not enough to kill either of them alone but winterbane's companion smashes his head against a jagged piece of rock on their fall and lands awkward and still on the ground seconds before wintersbane lands, his fall cushioned by the body of his ex-acquaintance, head slamming painfully against the ground.

it is there, drawing ragged breaths, that the world goes black as he falls unconscious; bleeding from the wounds on his face and neck still stubbornly drawing breath, fighting against death's clutches which has already come to claim the wolf crumbled beneath the tundrian limp and heavy tundrian.