Witch's Marsh blight

Sharp teeth found purchase to his own flesh and drew blood—his snarl thickened, and where she tried to lure them deeper, he bound forward now, a dive to her side, moving to herd her back the way they came. Whatever game she felt she was doing bringing him further into the swamp would end—

—She offered nonsense in return—of course it drew his own questions. “Leave this valley and find your chaos elsewhere,” he demanded before another lunge, this time, to roll a shoulder forward and knock her to the muck and dirt, teeth following suit to pin her with the intent to sheer at her back and spine.