Ankyra Sound to be bold

The seal protested, obviously. It writhed and called out in pain, a futile venture that amounted to nothing more than a backdrop of strange new sounds while the two wolves worked at it. Erzulie was more practiced; she knew to be quick and thorough, while Firefly was still getting used to the soft and supple fatty tissue he'd grasped between his teeth.
The blood soaked through the snow, fanning out from the creature as it was pulled at, bitten, torn ragged, until its terrified bleating became tired sobs, and one of the wolves finally put it out of its misery. Firefly sank back for a moment and examined the scene as if he hadn't been one of the perpetrators of the seal's demise—licking blood from his lips and teeth, feeling that warmth go cold.