The Floodlands I'm with the band.

Link to rolls (o shi).

With the advantage given to her, as well as the other's simultaneous lunge, Towhee should've been able to dart in there, rip out the bobcat's throat and leap clear again without a scratch. Guess again! At the critical moment, the cat spun to field her attack, rather than the other wolf's, possibly because she was larger and thus a more serious threat. In any case, Towhee's attempt was not only thwarted, she took a point-blank slash to the face.

Pain erupted and Towhee unleashed a godawful screech that would surely be heard across the nearby plateau. She couldn't see through the curtain of blood streaming from a gaping slash above her right eye. Fearful that the cat had actually torn out the eyeball—rendering her partially blind on top of being deaf, a near-certain death sentence—the wolf retreated further, incidentally stumbling into the water.

Thinking fast, she dunked her head beneath the surface. She resurfaced with a great gasp and found she could see. Before she could feel any relief, a fresh wave of blood poured forth, obscuring her vision again. The bobcat hadn't clawed out her eye but it had obviously cut up her face pretty well. Between the adrenaline and the cold water, Towhee wasn't in much pain now but she could not possibly ascertain the seriousness of the injury beyond the copious amounts of blood.

She baptized herself again, then glanced over to see how the other wolf was faring—hopefully much better than Towhee.