Cricket Creek Bog raises a number to a power of a specified number.

WC: 244

Niamh was well aware of the fact that while she was a very tall wolf, she was also quite slender and didn't have a lot of weight or brute strength on her side. So when she'd messed up and had allowed Figment to get a hold high on her shoulder, she'd been put at an immediate disadvantage by merit of the fact that he was a strong young buck, and had both gravity and weight to his advantage. Biting at his leg seemed to do very little, and he continued to press down at her so she decided it was time to change tactics.

If he wasn't going to respond to the threat of pain, she'd have to actually inflict it.

She wrenched her neck to the side, releasing the pressure on his leg and aimed higher, making biting grasps into the thick for of his chest as she began to work her way with her lean muzzle toward the crook of his jaw. He had her shoulder- so she wouldn't be able to get the best angle but if she could manage to hook her lower jaw anywhere near his jugular, she wanted him to at least know that she was still a threat- and that unless he wanted his windpipe threatened, he ought to take a bit more space for himself. Though her skill was speed, she was also a sneaky devil- and would use their proximity to her advantage as well.