Swiftcurrent Creek cowpoke
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#26
all right then.
"git yer teeth higher, red!" colt instructed through a bloom of agony. ring-eye had hold of his cheek but through his peripherals he saw sadey was faltering.
he ripped his jawline from the man's grasp, leaving a fair chunk of skin and hair clapped in the giant's jaws. the slashes cut from his right outer eye to the edge of his lip and would be a quartet of long jagged scars.
blood weltered down and painted his shoulder. "now leave off, girl," colt panted, a mad laugh eking in his throat. the big fucker was bleeding. briggs was bleeding. 
there was ferocious movement in sadey's direction. no time to watch anyone react to hotfoot's gambit before the unkempt rogue flashed forward, feinting to the right and striking for ring-eye's — ringed eye.
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#27
The giant kept on moving! Nothing that Indra did could slow him down; she was pecking at him, gouging him with her teeth, but the fucker wouldn't slow! She was like a flicker-bird fighting against the toughened bark of a hardy tree, expecting sap with every puncture, yet finding nothing.
Indra didn't know what else to do. Colt shouted to her to move higher and so she tried to strike up, closer to the man's neck, however her strike went off-kilter as something (or someone) careened in to her hip and skewed her angle of attack.
Thankfully she was quick on her feet, so Indra prevented being bowled over. She was a step too late to help Colt as the two men clashed again, and had to choose between the aimless harassment of ring-eye or, turning to help Sadey with the other one.
Indra sprang to her feet alongside the woman and with a snarl, sought to grab for her opponent wherever she could find a hold.
-Some Women, fear the fire. Some women, just become it.-
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#28
Sadey held fast and was used as a veritable wrecking ball. The mans teeth digging even deeper into her ribs, she felt him grasp even tighter on her ribs. The scrape of teeth on bone and she wanted to swear a blue streak. Tears fell from her eyes, to mingle in the dirt, but she held fast. Nothing could be said of Sadey, but tenacious. She would die hanging on to this great bastard and meet him in hell.

But indra came to her rescue and she was able to detach, and move towards the mans throat. Grunting in pain and exhaustion. 

Watch his paws girly. That's right. Find a weak spot.

She turned to go after him again, her side slick with blood, her paws shaky. The adrenaline slowly waning. Fuck Colt and his temper, and this big black beast too.

She snarled and went for his paws, this time, if she couldn't' kill his ass, she'd maim him.

5/30 6
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#29
Blood fell from his shoulder, his face. And he tasted blood. A happy type of growl, leeking from his maw. The bastard went for his eye, and Arric pulled his face up wards and away just in time, though teeth scoured down muzzle and a long line of cerise began. He used a paw to swipe at the other's paws. Couldn't worry about the girl now as she went after Akavir.

Arric pressed forward, brutal and angry. He was hurting, adrenaline waning, but he was pushing onward.
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#30
lemme know if anything i write doesn't make sense or if something should be changed!

Having managed to detach the little red parasite from his comrade, in doing so, the shadow runner had managed to fall into her eager jaws next. She grabbed him at the shoulder and the grey she-wolf managed to rip from his grasp and spun from his jaws that snapped shut on air.

Akavir wasn’t much for reinventing the wheel, so and when the one that was waning went for his paws, his jaws snapped down, keen an grabbing hold of her neck and forcing her up, and oh—he would twist with his might—in hopes of once more knocking the two girls together as the red-furred wolf’s jaws made purchase and tore to his muscle—and thus, making the movement clumsy, the weight and pain buckling him slightly.


14/30 7
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#31
goddamn, colt was proud of red, and burning with that long-denied desire for sadey as they scrapped and bled solely for the disrespectful reply that hotfoot had given him. it solidified briggs as the head of their gang.
and lucky for them two, he knew where to get medicine as well. 
colt focused on his opponent; the massive paw slashed across one of his wrists with blunt dirty nails. the man grunted and slid back before the rest of his limbs could be compromised. ring-eye was gonna wear colt's mark too, he saw with a grin.
colt was bleeding, and more than he had expected. he shook blood from his fur in defiance, but the pain was pounding through his skull with a deep and distracting ache.
he cut to the side like a herding dog, wanting to see how the giant spun when colt snapped for a mouthful of flank.
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#32
This dark-furred man moved differently from the first. He was almost nimble, without the excess bulk of ring-eye, and yet he did not use his teeth as aggressively, and moved to try and slam the girls together instead.
He was staggered enough by Indra's sudden switch-up that she could read his movements a little easier, and saw his counter coming. When he tried to throw her in to Sadey she allowed it, partly, and as she was wedged between the black wolf and the wounded woman, Indra found purchase on the ground and launched forward again.
She tried not to use her teeth, this time. To learn from her opponent as the fight unfurled around her. She sought to stab her snout in to his jawline, or gag him with a blow to the neck, and if she was successful then the teeth would come out - with a snarl.
Snapping at air, at fur, at flesh, she didn't care. Indra was trapped between Sadey's body and the man, and she had to find a way out. The black wolf did have a weakness thanks in no small part to Sadey's work, and that was what Indra sought now in her desperation.
-Some Women, fear the fire. Some women, just become it.-
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#33
Though they blow may not have been hard on Indra. On Sadey it was a different animal. Blood was welling from her exposed rib and her face was torn and blood. At the hit, she yelped and was thrown from teh area. She skidded to a stop and though she wanted to fight back, her legs gave out. And she hit her stomach, and then curled inward. Eyes blurring at the edges, darkness pressing, but she fought it.

So she spoke for the girl instead. That's right Redbird. Aim for his weakness. Use his bulk against him. Use your speed.
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#34
The dirt cowboy cut along his side and went for his flank. He shifted, though the pain in his other shoulder was screaming as he moved, and it made his movement time a hair later than it usually would have been.. Teeth ripped into another shoulder, but Arric used his longer body to grasp at the other man's scruff. 

Teeth hoping to dig into and throw the man from the fray. He was about tired of this shit. And the female was dying. This man had possibly cost one of his gang her death, wondered if he'd even care.
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#35
One down—Akavir would have felt bad if they hadn’t started the entire thing first and went for blood.

He was slowing though—the exertion from the foul-mouthed she-wolf, who still refuses to even stop trying to coax the feisty redhead in front of them. She was a quick little thing—taller than the other one, but thinner.

She was an angry ball of hate—lunging, jabbing, snarling. Probably spitting, like the man she followed. He covered his throat, her jab catching him to the cheek, just below his eye and for a moment, causing his vision to blur. He took that moment to duck down and then pivot from her teeth, feeling them scrape above his head, breaking skin. His jaws sought the tender areas below her muzzle—aiming to latch on to the tender flesh where her chest meets her forelimb.
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#36
the man caught at his nape. colt made himself boneless though landed hard when he was tossed. a grunt; something felt like it had been pulled till it tore.
but when sadey went down, colt was blinded by fury and was on his feet in a heartbeat. perhaps it was borne of possession, perhaps of loyalty, perhaps of self-hated; whatever it was, it was gasoline upon the fire of his adrenaline. they'd both been gut-wounded before. and they'd always managed to drag themselves off and live another day.
"move off, red!" colt shouted to the fireball who flared around hotfoot. 
SWITCH!
it was the art of violent ballroom. you went with your strengths. the man in front of him could kill red with a blow. but she was smaller than he. matched with sadey against the other bastard, they were equal. alone it was only a matter of time before he caught the the promising young rogue.
he lunged, then snapped back and feinted toward hotfoot. if successful, if the giant did not catch him, he would strike the man broadside with mauling force for the sin of marring redbird.
his chest hurt with the force of pulling air.
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#37
The black wolf moved like a serpent striking, quick and hard, and caught her in the chest with enough force to shove her back - except his teeth rooted her in place, so she tore instead and squealed pig-like and girlish at once; gasping for air, staggering back and away away away —
move off, red!

They had practiced this against stags, against rats, against each other: moving sharply on her heel, she went and folded against Colt as he came roaring to swap places with her; she could barely breathe, and her chest hurt, and she was suddenly so afraid!
Facing now the giant with the ringed-eye, she knew only one thing: she had to keep away from him. She had to move as quickly as ever, to trust her every impulse to survive this; if he caught her, he'd crush her like a bug.
Indra didn't see a wolf then, as she faced him. She saw death, blue-eyed and vengeful. Her only goal now was to stay out of reach.
-Some Women, fear the fire. Some women, just become it.-
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#38
Sadey was fighting to stay awake. Her breathing coming harsh and painful. In most cases she had left already, but the thought of leaving redbird to fend for herself with Colt filled her with a cold ball of fear that she had no reason for other than she was young and impressionable and they may have gotten her killed.

So Sadey stumbled ot her feet and tried to move to get a good vantage point. Stay out of ran of his legs and teeth, try and tangle him up girly. Use his movements against him and your speed to your advantage. Fight dirty. Grab him by the balls if you have too.

She was trying not to yell ot loudly to the girl. But she wanted to be heard too.
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#39
Arric moved forward, his aim for the wound that was in the girls chest. He wanted to make her hurt just alittle like he did. This was a pain in the ass, but he knew well enough to know that this was what made or broke you in the wild. Live or die. So they were fighting for what was theirs. Even if it was hard. But he was lagging. His body was slowing, blood was flowing from all wounds.

but he would continue until Akavir told him to stop. That was the rules though unspoken. Akavir had taken his place as leader, Arric was to listen. Though he wondered if a retreat wouldn't be enough. These gang members had enough of a reminder he'd wager and were they smart they'd not stay around, not with the way the white one was leaking blood.
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#40
plot twiiiiist
Contact—the sickening crunch—a pity, she was so young—younger still than his own daughters.

The flow of blood seemed to pull the lead shithead from Arric—rage igniting him, and at a barking command, the girl pulled from him, tearing herself further, and they switched.

It was fast—it was impressive. And Colt lunged, knocking Akavir who rolled with the contact—and as he rolled, he found his footing once more, pushing upward just as swiftly, knowing if you were down you would be dead.

And little red was terrified—he could smell it on her. She wisely aimed to move away from Arric, who was willing to pick up where Akavir left off—and right into Akavir’s embrace. He grabbed her, jaws clasping to her nape—a sweet pressure point and spot where he could begin to strangle her—pop a vein. Snap her.

He seethed—a terrible snarl emitting from him as he stilled, enforcing her to still as well. “Fucking stop where you stand,” he emitted, voice muffled by the tang of blood and the red fur in his mouth. “I’ll kill her if you don’t.”
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#41
:o

the thing about a cowboy was that they were loyal to abstract concepts.
the big brute was snapping forward, but it was hotfoot who caught red.
colt stiffened. he wasn't about to be seized by the big fucker but a raise of his tail signalled a willingness to speak. and now the crimson eyes watched how the man held red, how he set his teeth toward her vitals. 
he listened to sadey's breathing.
colt briggs was not about to admit he had been bested. that was his compadre on the ground and his pet locked in those arms. 
he seethed, as much for the fact that he'd been checkmated as for the way that hotfoot held her with a possessiveness that positively sickened colt. he widened his stance, tongue lolling with the giant's blood as crimson oozed from his own face.
the scarlet gaze became a hard welter.
"now there's somethin' real bad back the way we came. yew kill her, i'll make sure it comes here."
something hideous and dark and calloused suffused colt's features. "but yew won't."
and that was briggs' gambit; to look at the object of his horrendous obsession and take the chance that the man holding her wanted that same sort of control. and to know that you didn't break things you wanted.
he didn't care that redbird might hate him. she needed to understand now that you took stands like this. 
were it him in that same position, he'd want her to do the same.
colt waited, though if the giant moved he would lunge and start this shit all over again.
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#42
Before this, the biggest thing Indra had ever faced was a sickly stag, from recent memory — a bear, maybe, if she thought long and hard about it; but that brought to mind a cave, or a pit, or some foul-smelling terroir; it jarred her more than the massive black head did, as it lunged for her. She missed a step. She swerved when she did not mean to, spine straightened, chin tucking — then, teeth from every which way.
Not the giant with the ringed eye. The other — yellow eyes, yellow teeth, pressure, danger; Indra chokes and is shaken, forced to stop.
The man who holds her by the throat speaks a warning, and she feels it tremble through her very veins.
She sees Colt clearly, then. His rage — his wounds. He spoke with a goading precision, his expression dire. Indra knew that look as one not to be trifled with. But she felt the pressure of those teeth at her throat.
Cul', she pled, and bled, and stared, while her vision blurred at the edges.
Go, Cul', g-go.
-Some Women, fear the fire. Some women, just become it.-
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#43
Sadey swayed on her feet. And though she hated what was coming, knew it must be done. The girl would need to learn.

But it was soon she needn't worry, the girl understood. Sadey was weak and losing blood fast, but she'd fight to bitter end.
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#44
There was a finality in the beasts words and Arric briefly wondered what could be worse. But he kept his mouth to himself and waited. Watched.

Eyes on Akavir and the she wolf in his jaws, to the other two and back again. While blood flowed freely from his shoulders, his face. His paw.
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#45
A failed barter for life shouldn’t have surprised him. The ragtag crew were clearly cutthroat and missing a moral compass or two. 

Red eyes stayed on him, calculating. Threatening.

Spittle—some threats about something terrible being unleashed on them. That was a thought for later—truth of the matter was he could suffocate the girl as he was slowly doing now—or, if he was so magnanimous, he could make it quick and snap her neck. The other one could barely stand. 

That left two against one.

He could also give Arric the word and let the man finish what he had started—his comrade could clearly hold his own. 

Thing was, unlike Colt, the Mayfair was unwilling to gamble the life of his companion. His money would have been on the large man—but the stakes were too high. 

Pale gold eyes met red. His jaw clenched tighter, a warning to her as she tried to garble a plea to the other man. I don’t think he cares much about you, sweetheart, he rumbled, voice muffled. 

So he released her, dropping her like a dirty rag—hoping common sense prevailed and she would see who the truly spared her life in that moment. 

He ducked low, a lunge forward as his pushed from the ground. His jaws now seeking purchase to the side of the man’s neck—his ushered snarl an encouragement for Arric to jump in. 

Just maybe they could make quicker work of this now.
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#46
maul him to 0005% of life plz

in the moments that ticked by, colt saw the future. this had suddenly narrowed to a pinprick of awareness; this had at last ceased to be about redbird and centered all on colt. on what lurked beneath the me-me-me —
a creature who until this moment had never held so much power. "sadey. git on while yew got a lick o'breath." it was an order, cut across by hotfoot's wrong words.
oh, but he did care — he did care and he held a jester's regard for life.
"bye, red." his voice was a casual goodbye, one they'd shared a hundred times. 
and that was all colt briggs said before the side of his throat was grabbed. he bellowed a challenge and twisted, snapping for muzzles, eyes, lips, jawline, and back-claws ready to rake for entrails.
if you were meant to die in gouts of blood, be sure you took a lot more with you.
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#47
The man growled some words Indra did not want to hear, did not want to consider; then she was thrown to the ground. Chin smacked earth. Her chest wound crunched and bled.
She felt nothing but Colt's eyes. Stuttering breath after breath. Indra knew she should stand and she should run. No - Colt should; even she could see that.
Sadey was half dead. The giant wasn't downed. Colt there in the middle, staring. Time dragged.
Time stopped.
Bye, Red.
The black-furred bastard stepped over Redbird and became all that she could see. He swallowed up Colt. His teeth sang through the air as steel might, and as teeth took hold Indra found herself trying to get uo get up GET UP - !
-Some Women, fear the fire. Some women, just become it.-
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#48
Tears sprang to Sadey's eyes, but she jumped forward on her last leg and grasped the girl by the scruff. 

She whispered tightly. Let's go Red. We'll come back for him or they'll throw him in the river. But you and I are getting gone. Ole Colt's lived through hell before. We'll be back.

Sadey met Colt's eyes if he could and he'd see the promise. She'd find him again, and she'd rip his hide bare, after she fixed it o'course, but she'd be back. 

Stupid wild fool. She mumbled, and pulled the girl harder.
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#49
Arric watched the going on's with baited breath, but he jumped in like Akavir ordered. Though he felt it a mistake to let teh girls go. That red one would be back, he knew it for revenge. Maybe not the white one, but the red, oe. She'd come back

He slammed into the side of the smaller male, though not by much, hoping to bowl him over for Akavir to get this over with. He was not one that liked ot do a kill shot on another, he would if needed, but it wasn't ideal.
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#50
The red-eyed wolf was offering what Akavir imagined he felt was some profound goodbye under the duress of oncoming death—a death brought only by his own paws when he had decided to charge into a battle and risk he and his comrades.

The prices were always high in these matters, and the flurry of motion he saw from the peripheral of his vision as the gravely wounded woman tried to coax the redhead away. He snarled, pale gaze finding Arric who had slammed the ringleader to the ground—“Grab her,” he growled, hoping the man would be swift enough to do so.

Akavir was preoccupied himself.

Colt’s hefty form slammed and flayed—paws scouring, gouging. The Mayfair—his teeth locked upon the man’s neck, held fast, blood from both opponents pooling to the ground as he begun to drag him along the ground.

There was a sick sense of satisfaction as he imagined dragging the bastard through the vile spit he had promised to make him clean up.

The creek’s edge was there, and with a hefty fling that resembled nothing like an iconic ‘this is Sparta’ moment in time, because damn, Colt was heavy, he pushed the thief into the creek.

The rapids were fast—they would ensure a quick exit of the man and if there was luck on his side—they would drown the world of one more hotheaded fiend. Panting--he stood, gaze watching the creek do the rest of the work for him--a tongue swiping the blood from his lips.