Bramblepoint Burn the Fleet [m]

From any other wolf, Niamh might have expected a bid for mercy or a plea for forgiveness- but the fact that Kiwi fought back left Niamh to assume only that she knew the fate Niamh intended for her, and that she chose not to accept it. Off-white sabres flashing at her forelegs in return spoke the same wordless threat. Blood spilled into blood spilled into snow- and as it melted a pact was made between the two warriors.

Incisors ripped through the flesh of her shin shearing it to the bone, white as the snow on the ground. She'd caught the fur of Kiwi's shoulder and yowled in pain, tearing her fangs free to snap with renewed frenzy at Kiwi's face, muzzle, jawline- anything she could do to fend off Kiwi's snapping jaws.