Hideaway Strath Whims of Fate or was that strings?

Despite her dire situation, Unwilling to move her own throat or let go of the throat in her maw, she redoubled her effort to get her paws between them scratching, scrambling and pummelling at the white she wolf she tore white patches of fur out likely fur that was going to come out with the winter's change over anyway but at the very least it help to bolster Whrist for one more attempt at freeing herself.