Bitterroot Valley I miss the misery

She could taste a metallic wetness on her tongue, and knew her powerful jaws had applied enough pressure to draw blood. She felt triumphant, as if there was chance of subduing the white beast, and jumped back to decided on her next attack.

But the wolf was just too goddamn fast. As Diesel leapt back, it leapt forward, and its teeth closed about the loose folds of her neck. The fangs pierced her, then remained in place, as if trying to throttle the life out of her. It was only thanks to their size difference and her breed's anatomy - thank you kindly, dear ancestors - that the wolf's grip was awkward enough to slip. The mastiff twisted her body to free herself, in which she succeeded, then attempted to distance herself. 

The warmth for her brow had slipped into her right eye and she shut it on reflex, now blinded on that side.

Fuck fuck shit fuck.

It began to dawn on the she-dog that this opponent was out of her league. Scarface proved itself a formidable challenge, this teasing brawl having potential to turn fatal - for she more likely than for it.

Still, Diesel wouldn't be the dumb brute she was if she knew when to quit a fight. 

With fierce barks she dived low then up, trying to reach the neck of the white beast, or perhaps the jaw. 

This fight needed to end now.

Rolled an 8. Diesel's neck has been pierced, but not in a fatal way.

(3/30)