Ouroboros Spine trouble come knockin'

a wheeze escapes him as a large black paw pressed against his windpipe. incrementally harder, causing panic to bubble in his chest, his throat. stars, is this really how he'd go? right when he'd ventured off into the world to try and...and become something more?

one of his eyes cracks open, and he finds himself staring up at the face of death. black, unforgiving, cruel. icy fear courses through his veins. the same fear that he'd felt whenever his brothers would pin him down like this. except, he doesn't think they meant to maim. 

not like this reaper is inclined too.

who sent him? gods, nobody had! he was hardly a wolf, let alone some type of assassin!

"n-nobody! please, you—" he chokes on a precious breath, one he couldn't afford to waste. "have to believe me!" 

tears well in his eyes, and he isn't sure if it's from the pain of his throat being stomped on, or the white-hot, primal fear that grips him. he doesn't want to die. he doesn't want to die at the hands of a reaper.