Bramblepoint Burn the Fleet [m]

Clumsy on her three legs, Niamh staggered forward with the impact, once again falling down onto the same shoulder as before- but this time, she fell against Kiwi, rather than falling into the snow. They became a writhing mass of limbs for a moment before Niamh scrambled her hind feet beneath herself, and snaked herself along Kiwi's side like a golden serpent. The dewclaw of one of Kiwi's forelegs snagger her lower eyelid and raked down along her cheek, causing blood to spill into her own vision- but not before she could latch her jaws onto Kiwi's windpipe. 

She fell limp, otherwise; every fibre of her focus concentrated on clenching and holding her grip, dead-weight simply hanging from the soft, vulnerable point just below the crook of Kiwi's jaw, eyes staring hard into red fur, unblinking.