Firefly Glen [M] stop, don't save yourself

Through the open wounds, blood infused with the adrenline of fury and sheer hatred drained. Slowly the bear began to lose his lucidity, slowly he felt himself fading, but he would not give up, not while the self-proclaimed king of this place still breathed.

The All Mother had allowed these beasts to roam freely upon her for far too long. They were greedy, messy, numerous fleas upon her soft skin, picking away at each resource with no understanding for its purity. They bred like rodents. Their calls were loud and wrought havoc on the wind. The children of Yakwahe would have no dogs on their land. His wives would roam without their pestering, gnawing, biting.

And so when the white she-wolf called out to him in her language, he stopped in his tracks and rose up. He towered over her pathetically fine figure. She would break as easily as the other. Death becomes you, the words like a foul, ugly, demonic grumble falling from lips broken with the rips from her kin. As she launched herself, he raised a huge paw to strike her down like the little doe that she was.

As she moved, the other male pushed her from him, screaming at her just as Yakwahe's claws met his side. The bear lunged toward him as he simultaneously went for the chest. The monster felt teeth in his thick skin, and made use of his own jaws and free paw to grasp at any part of the wolf he could manage. He wanted to rip him away, to break him, to rip the stupid flag of a tail from his body. Die. He willed of it, though he felt the blood from a new wound.