Bearclaw Valley some kind of plastic i could wrap around you

fading hereee
tysm for the thread :pleading_face:

The screaming— it rakes through his head and splits him apart down his nervous highways and alleys. There's an unbearable pressure on the back of his neck. He sees two of the dark girl, two of the coyote, twice the amount of blood as she tears its leg from its joint.
Warmth and wetness spray all over his legs, up to his chest. Screaming, more and more. Louder and louder. He thinks vaguely of how bodies are held together by bones and muscle and sinew. How hard it was to cut through, unless you knew where all the seams were. He closes his eyes, tries to steady himself. The noise pushes its fingers into his ears into his brain and it does not stop.
Bloody and shaking and hunched, he pivots sharply, and marches in the direction they had come from. His steps are curt, his footprints unusually deep. Though his face is turned away, there is a fleeting expression of pain and despair that wracks his boyish features.