Sleeping Dragon identity

The slam of bodies - then teeth, then skull to stone - was so quick and raucous that Indra's eyes could barely follow, and her ears lanced back upon her head; but then things stilled and Colt was staring at her expectantly.

The coyote was downed. Its head likely split open or its jaw broken. It was pinned to the earth and yet it lived, writhing and pathetic. She saw it for what it was: a sacrifice.

Never me, came the mantra in her mind as she lunged for it. Seeking flesh with her teeth; grabbing a leg as it kicked out at her and pulling, popping a joint; she was a frenzy of tooth and claw and soon the coyote was nothing but a limp mass beneath the pressure of Colt's heel.