Overture Downs Let's raise some hell, shall we?

as each critically lengthened stride brought him closer to the hellcat, stigmata had time to realize that the lithe beast was too busy trying to savage his defiant prey to defend himself properly against its oncoming assailant. maddened by hunger or some other mental inhibition, the warhound knew he must do as much damage as he could and retreat, all in one swift motion or he would be severely damaged by this creature's merciless fishhooks.

he went for a glancing blow - a hit and run - and he half dragged the brute's hindquarters when his aim struck true: teeth razoring very briefly into the fine, ropy muscles lining the cat's lean hip, and then gone just as quick. a keepsake welt of blood left in stigmata's place. he could feel the cat swing hotly after him, and he hoped to lead the enraged fiend as far away from its original targets as possible - even if he could earn them only a few precious feet of respite.

stigmata would try to elude and frustrate the cat further, much in the tactics of a savanna canid; returning fiercely if he was ignored - fleeing if he was targeted. though just a single wolf, this was a battle he was willing to die for; a fact that made him fearful of nothing but the possibility of indra and/or nunataq not surviving the encounter. for this monster, haggard and manic-eyed, with maybe twenty pounds on him, could not terrorize stigmata more than he already had.

and he would let the demon stand here no longer.