The Heartwood and i pray to god you dont come back here anymore

breath and breath and breath and 
heartbeat surging; merrick's tongue lolled as the ground swam before his muzzy eyes. the pain had dulled to the soft grain that accompanies shock, and a steady warm rivulet along the back of his foreleg alerted the body that there was still life within him.
distantly the snarling continued to ring; the boy turned, blinking at the writhing caiaphas and bulking vengeance, locked together.
she had 
she was 
mind parading incoherently, merrick forced up his chin, focusing until vision cleared upon the blood-spattered fray.
they had to g —
with a lurch that sickened the yearling, he lunged for the battling pair, weakened jaws snapping with a renewed verve as he briefly rallied to part the demonic pair from their eldritch clasp.
caiaphas; he plunged himself against her battleworn chest, using the last of his strength to grapple the woman from her fiercely gripped target; away and away and away until she 
wrenched aside 
and merrick staggered off finally at a blood-worn hobble, too weary to cast his voice at the hag but hoping desperately that she would flit too into the shadows.