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It stilled underneath her

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It stilled underneath her. The leering yellow eyes were difficult to read.

Crescentsky had a forepaw planted firmly against its torso. Her chest-fur nearly brushed the wolf's own as she leaned over it. She could hardly see her own forepaws for the thick, long fur covering its belly and breast.

Then, when she leaned forward to send it reeling away with one last bite, the animal kicked out valiantly. Before she knew what was happening it opened its jaws and started biting desperately. Crescentsky flinched when teeth met her bloodied chin and sent searing white-hot agony through her once again.

I can't give up yet! She told herself, but she couldn't stop the trembling from overexertion.

Yet as she let it up, the animal gave a timorous whine and turned to flee.

Oh. Its triangular ears were flat against its skull, tail tucked under its rump as it trudged away.

Thank Starclan!

It kept making those pitiful noises as its paws took it farther and farther away from Riverclan's camp, till its pelt blended in with the murky marshland shadows.

Still slightly surprised, Crescentsky sank to her knees.

It's over. The relief she felt was something beyond comprehension.

Her chest heaved as she fought to breathe normally. It felt like she could take in more air in this body, but that she had to force herself to breathe deeper in order to receive it.

Nearly half of Crescentsky's thick-furred pelt was covered in blood. Most of it was her own. The night air was quiet after the second wolf's retreating paw-steps faded.

"Wow." A breathless voice startled her. She turned to search for the source, limping on the leg that was injured.

It was her sister. Tinyflame had hid herself so well that Crescentsky couldn't see her at first.

"Can you believe it? Once again we're somehow alive!"

Her littermate crawled partway out from beneath a bramble bush with giant thorns. She said the words with utter disbelief, neck craned to look up at Crescentsky.

But even as she'd said it, Tinyflame's voice was strained, as if trying to suppress the pain of her injuries.

Only for now. If we don't die from blood loss or infection first. Her littermate's chest-fur was matted with blood, torn fur, and ripped flesh. Her back and head had long, thin scratches from the thorns.

Caɾղaցe Ɱօօղ ~𝙰 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌Where stories live. Discover now