The Heartwood and i pray to god you dont come back here anymore

the grim reality of two versus one, was that the one never won. with predators such as wolves, an outnumbered fight was more butcher-shop than fair match -- and caiaphas gave her victim no quarter.

the beast's attention was drawn to merrick, and that was to be his second mistake in what was scarcely more than fifteen seconds' time (the first, of course, being having ever engaged caiaphas at all). at his flank he was his most vulnerable; the heartgirth tantalizingly close, and now bleeding profusely by caiaphas' teeth.

a knee swung towards her muzzle, and she knew then the fight already over. a mistake to ever hand a wolf a limb -- particularly one such as caiaphas. his knee would connect, and it would hurt -- but her pain would be rewarded as her teeth sought the leg so kindly proffered to her.

and once(if) gripped, she would do what came to every wolf as naturally as rain -- she would wrench the leg first right, and then left with all the force in her being -- and either the bones beneath would break from their pivotal moorings,

or goliath would come crashing to the earth.