Bearclaw Valley That I'm not the carefullest of girls

Cole felt the woman twist and buck beneath him, her snarls tearing through the frigid air like the strike of claws. She was relentless, her single eye blazing with feral determination. Even as her injured leg faltered, she did not yield, her jaws snapping dangerously close to his cheek.

Her persistence only spurred his resolve. His weight bore down more firmly, paws pressing into her shoulders to keep her pinned. He shifted his grip slightly, adjusting to avoid her teeth as they lunged near again. His focus narrowed, his breaths steady even as she lashed out with everything she had left.

The sound of approaching paws made his ears flick back briefly, though his gaze didn’t waver from his opponent. He felt Ameline’s presence before he saw her, her growl slicing through the tension like a blade. The Regina’s swift snap at the woman’s ruff gave Cole an opportunity.

He adjusted his stance immediately, bracing himself for what could be a critical strike from their attacker. His muscles coiled, prepared for the worst, but his gaze shifted toward Ameline just enough to communicate his readiness to follow her lead. This was her moment to command, and he would ensure the interloper paid the price for her brazen assault.