Ouroboros Spine x-ing a paragrab

the man receives only a mouthful of fur from her nape, but the woman's aim is true. teeth upon her ankle, then a sickening crunch, blinding pain; she whimpers, mouth streaming blood, dripping hot and fast down her chest;

blood-flower. . .

Karst. he's come to help—hasn't he? her eyes flash toward him for a second, then away, staring hard down the slope. before another blow is landed, she darts away, limping clumsily while favoring her shattered hind ankle,

but the biggest concern is her tongue, bleeding like a sieve;

her path down the mountain is blind, frenzied, trees streaking by,

bursting through brush

out into the open—

—will they spare Karst?—

ears canted back, listening for the sound of almost certain pursuit.