Dragoncrest Cliffs We can weep and call it singing

He aimed for flesh and came away with a mouthful of fur, naturally. He spat it out with a pah and twisted to find the neck again, only for the coywolf to come at his shoulder, a small, persistent shape beneath him. A broad shoulder was hard to grasp, especially in the heat of battle. Ephraim's teeth scraped through the dark fur and across the flesh, leaving a superficial wound but not much more.

Leg, Verx panted. You gotta go for my legs, bro. Trip me up. Shoulder bites won't do shit, not with our size difference. He ducked down, suddenly, head lowered and coming at Ephraim's abdomen like a battering ram. At the last minute, he brought it under and then up, hoping to connect with the soft underbelly and send the boy flying.