Dragoncrest Cliffs Close your eyes and sleep,

her jaws closed tighter and tighter still; mahler knew the laceration would demand the last of the herbs he had brought, and whatever else he might find on the slopes of the new mountain. such thoughts must be laid aside for later, however. the woman laughed, strangely enough; it chilled mahler, infuriated him.
his cimmerian-cloaked compatriot sought to drive their mutual enemy toward the cliff, attack intensifying. mahler fought the burgeoning agony in the tooth-clench of the wolfess' jaws and halted his pulling away. now he clicked painfully in his throat, swallowing down the gasp, a snarl winding through the tones of the other man.
rain and salt and stone; he aimed a shoulder toward the lower reaches of her throat, intending to strike her windpipe with as a harsh a blow as he could muster, held at half-length. if he could not be released, mahler would make her choice of refusal an agonizing one, ripping his own flesh through her teeth as he reared onto back-legs and came down across her shoulders with a heavy foreleg.