Duskfire Glacier I am the cut that ends foes—

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His blow landed true, and the yowl of the cougar shattered the silence. Tikigâk surged ahead, seeking the muscle ripple in the shoulder of the cougar, the lift of its foreleg—

Tikigâk grabbed it by the opposite wrist, the weight of her mate now doing the very thing he had sought to, feeling the weight shift as the cougar gave beneath Faust, sufficiently unbalanced. 

She saw its throat stretch out, vulnerable, but to release the limb meant he would grip Faust in an effort to regain himself. 

And her trust in her mate was so implicit that she had faith that he would see the same thing she had—that he would know to grab, to hold. Her pressure doubled on the limb, the sickening sounds of a bone breaking beneath her grip in her ears, louder than its screams.