Bramblepoint Burn the Fleet [m]

With a gaping wound in her foreleg, Niamh fell prey to the force of Kiwi's attack and staggered sideways as her leg gave out from beneath her. She went down onto her shoulder and hissed in contempt, but was spared annihilation as Kiwi stepped back to compose herself and refocus. The brief respite gave Niamh little more than a moment to haul in a ragged breath and reassess her opponent. They were both short the function of one leg- but it was with a pang of dread that Niamh felt she might be at a disadvantage. Kiwi's kind limb was injured, but she still had the full function of both forelegs, to help balance her and keep her throat protected. Niamh, on the other hand...

She pulled herself up to square off against Kiwi again, baring her fangs and staring straight into those burning emerald eyes- only to notice that one was filmy, obscured by blood. Niamh was desperate- anything she could use to her advantage needed to be used- and she was running short on blessings. 

She couldn't feint or use any amount of fancy footwork, but she had a significant height advantage over Kiwi, so when she threw herself at the ginger predator once more she did so with a powerful kick of her hindquarters, aiming to smash into her flank and take her to the ground where footwork would no longer be needed.