Snowforest Taiga nibwaakaawin ikwe

a cacophony of snarls. bloodscent fills the air, but the mountain woman does not relent, even as her opponent's ichor stained teeth pierce the flesh of her lower jaw and face. she deepens her grip upon the leg in her mouth, lips peeled. neither can move without grievously injuring themself- or the other. and so qupir waits. for movement, for submission. her teeth do not yet pierce bone, but easily could.

blood streams down her forehead, burns one eye. still she remains steadfast.