There was a split second where Hassun was consumed by all of his rage. A split second of sharp heat coupled with the thunderous applause of his heart as it raced. The second ticked on by, and the feline was launching himself at the red wolf with the full force of his anger - only to be struck from behind, grappled with, torn in to by teeth, and cast aside. He tumbled and lost his footing when the second wolf bore down upon him; the sensation of pain as it rippled through his body made Hassun's efforts completely futile.
He fell in to a ball and rolled, and by momentum carried the attacker with him - colliding with the fire-wolf in a mess of fur and frenzied limbs. Hassun wanted to right himself, deciding quickly that running would serve him better than fighting against odds such as this: so he did his best to stand, to swagger, and in the process pulled free of the second wolf whose hold was weakened by their combined collapse. His flesh had been torn deep and blood now trailed behind him, but he had to escape, he had to protect his wives and their children.
In the next instant, the cat was trying to run for his life.