The Tangle And an angel for my pain

Njord's heartbeat pounded in his ears as he ran. With each stride he took deeper and deeper breaths, inhaling the scattered bloodtrail of the injured woman. His hackles prickled from nape to tail, cerulean irises framed by the bloodshot whites of his eyes.

The scent grew thicker. Njord stopped in a small, mossy glen to circle the area. This must have been where she had sheltered.

That was when Chacal caught up.

At first, Njord was pleased to see her. He thought the Tanzanite had followed to aide in the search for the lurking evil. Yet, by the look on her face, and the brevity in her voice, the redtail concluded that this wasn’t the case.

Njord’s stone-colored mask narrowed into a snarl – a look somewhere between frustration and contempt – as he made a poor attempt to gather what was left of his patience. At that moment, many problems came to a head and his deference towards his leader waned until it was no greater than a fishbone.