Bearclaw Valley By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,

If what the devil wanted was screaming, he would be satisfied. Already in a panic over the incessant nipping at his heels, Fraser felt his heart leap into his throat at the white-hot bolt of pain at the tip of his tail. He whimpered—

No. He screamed. The shriek rose into the air, shivering into fragments, bouncing off the valley walls. 

He did not feel anything physical past that initial bite. Not the steady trickle of blood from his tail, the end torn away by hungry fangs. Nor the pounding of his legs against the earth. 

No pain—only terror. And terror was as agonizing a pain as any inflicted upon the body. His heart—

His heart! Fraser prayed that he succumbed to this creature before it burst altogether.