Honeyed Pasture one false prayer wielding blasphemy

The minutes went by; he watched the coyote tear a strip of flesh off and begin to work at it, chewing furiously. That was the moment of distraction that he waited for—he erupted from his cover with alarming menace, a snarl building in his throat as he charged his perceived enemy. The coyote, startled, choked on the meat before bristling and rising to action to defend its find. Its lips curled back to reveal yellowing, cracked teeth, and its head dropped to protect its throat.

Solpallur sneered at the coyote, it was too perfect. The coyote was old and just as ragged in appearance as he was but the wolf had size and strength and the follies of youth to back him up. He kept him cornered against the elk, pressing in close and earning warning snaps and snarls. An insane creature, clearly in wanting to have its life ended and only failing to find a way out that didn’t result in the wolf chasing him.

Which was the inevitable outcome when Solpallur finally went too far in one direction than another. The coyote saw its opportunity and bolted, and the wolf immediately seized him by the tail with terrifying results. A scream pierced the unfolding chaos as Solpallur dug his heels in, and he held the canine cousin tightly as he tried to squirm away.

The coyote cried out in the common tongue for him to stop, but he did not.

Mirth glittered in his gaze instead.

for my own ref: rolled 1d2 where even was success and rolled a 2.