Blackfeather Woods never seem to find the time

Blood pooled in the gash across his muzzle, seeping into his eyes and blurring his vision. He continued to swipe at his face but his attempts to stem the bleeding were in vain — it just kept coming. And so too did the frenzied girl. Biting, tearing, clawing at his form as Redshank tried to pry free, blinded by his own blood spill. It was not until a voice suddenly ricocheted though the trees — stop it! — did he stop his struggle, turning in the direction of the second assailant.

All he caught was the silver form of wolf, as pale and ghostly as the first, seeking to interfere...before he too was set upon by the girl.

In the struggle, Redshank felt the body of one of the Blackfeathers crash into his bloodied side, and the ground beneath his paws tilted violently. He crashed into the earth with a yelp, paws scrabbling against the dirt as he tried to pull himself away as quickly as he could, taking advantage of the feverish thrill the girl seemed to be caught in. Kill him for me.