Sleeping Dragon Never gonna give you up

She had been on her own for a couple of days now and while she wasn't anywhere near starvation, Wildfire's belly pinched with hunger. She hadn't managed to catch anything, due in part to making only halfhearted attempts at hunting. But she could not ignore the painful rumble in her gut any longer. As the afternoon wore on, she felt as if her stomach was going to gnaw itself right out of her body.

By the time she located a promising scent trail, Wildfire was faint with it. Nonetheless, she tracked the rabbit, then gave chase when she flushed it out of a blossoming thicket. When she crossed into claimed territory, it was a bit like hitting a brick wall. Wildfire couldn't seem to stop herself, though, as she pursued the chunky hare behind enemy lines.

Sangilak was truly diligent in her task. Not for a moment did the bear of a woman relent in enforcing them, and this was the hour where one would pay the price of her devotion. A red streak came nearer and nearer; Sangilak, a good distance away, began her charge. Wildfire would not get too far; while typically speed was a disadvantage, Sangilak moved along the decline of the mount where Wildfire would move upward. The air was terribly still, and all was quiet but for the pounding of her footfalls, a thunderous sound to any who would hear it. 

She was a runaway freight train, but well-practiced in this. There was the rabbit, and there, just behind it, was the true quarry and the victim of her own hunt. Sangilak was swift to intercept Wildfire, moving to bowl into her. Sangilak had come diagonally toward the red-haired creature she had assumed to be a fox rather than directly in front. The distance was all but closed, and Sangilak dipped her muzzle and prepared for the brutal impact she craved. 

 

Even the pounding footfalls did nothing to stop or even slow Wildfire's forward momentum. If she could just snatch the rabbit, she would leave immediately. What was one little rabbit to a pack, after all? Surely whoever was coming this way wouldn't invest too much in a wild goose chase. It could be said that perhaps she was a little desperate, her hunger addling her brains and compromising her judgment.

Suddenly, something hit her with brutal force. Wildfire didn't just collapse; she rolled off her feet, flipped twice, and then scraped to a halt on her left flank. The impact left her breathless and blinking owlishly. Adrenaline began to flood her system, making her aware of the imminent danger. She made a strange noise and tried to scramble to her feet.

Sangilak felt the vibration of bone against bone, but had prepared for the jarring effect of it and did not so much as recoil. The hit had been heavy and true; the others body-weight yielded, and she heard the sickening thuds of soft body upon hard and relentless stone. Sangilak cared not the reason for the others trespassing, she simply cared that the other had trespassed. Ingrained in her was the reaction; Sangilak was more than a well-oiled machine. She was the creme of her mothers crop, and this was not the first being she had to dispatch. It would not be the last. Sangilak wheeled around, her weight and speed both making such a thing difficult. But she surged upward in a terrible sprint at a speed strange for one of her stature. It was not a speed that could be maintained for long, but she had been trained for this, and had practiced it even here when she could. 

That practice seemed worth it. The other struggled to rise, and the noise that came from the other was answered when again Sangilak came upon her, utilizing her weight to oppress the other and keep her down. Her fangs snapped at the smaller than she being that Sangilak now saw was wholly wolf. This changed nothing for the stranger. Her fate would remain the same. Death was the penalty of this, and Sangilak had no qualms in the sentencing of this, and was ever-used to swinging the heavy sword that felt light in her grip. 

With hunger came weakness and slower reflexes. Wildfire could not regain her footing before the black wolf sprang at her, intent on keeping her pinned to the earth. As the other she-wolf bore down on her, Wildfire at least managed to roll onto her back. This exposed her throat and stomach but it also freed her legs. She kicked out with all four of them at once, paws connecting bluntly with the other female's soft underside. Simultaneously, Wildfire writhed like a fish pulled from a river. The combination of these movements allowed her to slip free of her attacker's grasp, just barely.

Lurching onto all fours, Wildfire now made a mad dash back toward the borders. Unfit to fight—due in part to hunger but mostly a simple lack of prowess—only one option remained to her: flight.

Sangilak had little reaction time. As the other made to turn, Sangilak made for the others throat. The slim body of the wolf beneath her permitted a speed Sangilak had not encountered in a while, and she felt the limbs of the other connect against the only vulnerable thing upon her that could be found: her soft underbelly. All else but that area was toned enough to give Sangilak a muscular build, but as she was a wolf and not a body-builder, the strike caused the she-wolf to inaudibly snarl as the other made to escape. The action had bought Wildfire two crucial seconds, but Sangilak spun and lurched furiously after her, lunging for a rear leg to crush between her vicelike grip as she would the game she hunted. The death she had hoped to give the other would have been swift; Sangilak could not be blamed for the pain the trespasser would now endure the moment her fangs might hit her mark, though the truth of it was that she cared nothing about that. She would let there be no question of what would befall any who transgressed against them. 

She was small but she was fast. Never before had Wildfire been bested in a footrace, not that she'd participated in many. She had outrun Goober, Rig and others who had intended to prey upon her. It was therefore something of a foregone conclusion that she would escape this time too. She would not have her pride, nor her meat, but Wildfire would have her life.

Guess again! Something sharp pinched her right hind leg, then came painful pressure that escalated into outright agony in a nanosecond. It also arrested her forward velocity. Both of these things caused Wildfire to yelp loudly. She wrenched around in the hopes of tugging herself loose, which only gave her a point blank view as the black she-wolf brutally snapped her leg bone.

Her hit connected; she felt the bone crush beneath the undiluted power her jowls possessed. She heard the sickening snap, and felt the other attempt to tug. It would bruise her gums, and so Sangilak released; the red wretch would be going nowhere but to her grave. Sangilak did not hesitate or wait upon letting go of the broken limb, instead she rushed now so that she might mount the other in an utter display of dominance, while knowing that her weight coupled with the others broken limb would cause the others collapse. 

Her leg dropped, bloodied and mangled, from her attacker's sharp teeth. Wildfire cried out again, more shrilly this time. When the she-wolf pressed her weight down on the yearling's back, she didn't have the strength to resist. She buckled. This time, there was no possibility of flipping onto her back. She was pressed flush against the ground, face veritably shoved into the earth, whimpers and whines pulling from her mouth like air leaking slowly from a flat tire.

It was the hour of her death, she realized. She felt a sense of hopelessness consume her. What was there to live for at this point? Wildfire groaned and attempted to roll despite the impossibility. She somehow managed to crank the upper half of her body onto its flank. She could have flashed her teeth in her would-be killer's direction but that would only hasten the inevitable.

Even though there was nothing left but pure survival instinct, Wildfire begged, "Please."

The weight, as expected, gave. Sangilak heard the pitiful whines of the other that might have made another pause, think, ask themselves: is this the way? But Sangilak was no stranger to the cries, the bargaining, the barbed words, the rancid scent of piss or shit. This was the only way. She was resolute and pitiless in her response: she opened her jowls and went for the throat, knowing for certain that the last thing the other would ever see was her own death. She moved with a surgeons precision, fangs making the swift incision and cutting to the quick, having no sick desire to prolong things. Expertly, she had found the throbbing jugular, and adeptly severed it. Sangilak lingered for but a moment, but there was no sound of breathing or jostling of the body. Even the bowels had done what they would to prove to Sangilak that her work was done. She lifted herself from the limp body and licked her chops, before shaking her ruff and moving along. Her watch was not yet finished; it had only just begun. 

Her assailant showed no mercy. She lurched forward, her jaws wrapping around Wildfire's throat. Although the yearling attempted to flinch away, there was no escaping, not this late in the game. The smell of her own blood, piss and shit filled her nose and tears leaked from her eyes as she felt the crushing pressure to her windpipe. In that final moment, she experienced a flashback to her infancy, when another black she-wolf had attempted to tear out her throat. But where Junior had failed, this stranger succeeded. There was a gush and a gurgle, then everything went black.

And then Wildfire startled awake to discover her body bathed in chilly morning dew. Her bladder was fit to bursting. She groaned and rolled over, a sense of uneasiness leeching away and leaving her with no memory of the bloody nightmare. Or perhaps it was just the real life nightmare that overshadowed it. Wildfire's eyes slowly closed as she remembered the past few days, then sighed and climbed to her feet, shuffling off to find someplace to pee.