Redsand Canyon down and out over the mount

shake it off

Success was just in his reach, an escape just at his fingertips--

-- his head jerks back as Finley grabs him by his scruff. A black anger rises in him, unbidden. Another snarl twists his features, this time intentional and very much audible.

Then as if a switch has been flipped, he blinks and loosens. He looks at his bloody hands. They shake with so many things: adrenaline, pain, the fading vestiges of that alien rage. He collects himself. His face only a few inches away from the sand, he's back where he was moments before. Half on the ground, half off.

The fight is nearing its inevitable end. He knows this the same way he knows when a storm is coming, when a deer is about to notice him and disappear. He attempts to writhe out of Finley's grasp yet again, dimly noticing the blood that is creeping down his throat.