fight or flight

The alabaster marked Klein was drawn by the scent of blood on the wind. Decorated paws carried her through the brush and dodging thorns as her brilliant lavender gaze fell on the battle. Deathbelle hadn’t made much noise recently, she was unsure with having lost track of her brother. Harbringr was close enough to summon with a call, Roman the same. Her other siblings however, she wasn’t so sure of. Belle did her best to banish thoughts of them, her focus on the scene in front of her.

Amethyst eyes observed for a moment the snowy she wolf threw herself into the cat’s side. Deathbelle didn’t often see mountain lions boasting such impressive weights. As crimson welled forth from the wounds opened by cat claws, the Klein girl decided to step in. The she wolf seemed ready for her, though for an attack or help she wasn’t sure.

There was no hesitation as Deathbelle placed her larger form between wolf and cat. Dark hackles raised as she stood with bent joints. She snarled fiercely at the puma with ivory tail flying as a banner behind her. With her white marked left leg she lashed out with her decorated paw, aiming to scratch as the cats eyes as it attempted to recover from its previous flight in the air caused by the ivory she wolf. The cat squinted back at her, revealing its own impressive canines as it hissed. The beast lifted its own right paw and swatted at Deathbelle.

The girl balanced on her toes, and as the cat stuck it only grasped air as the ivory splattered woman retreated out of the way. Hopefully the stranger had already found safety or at least a better place to attack from. Belle couldn’t know the extent of the other woman’s injuries, and made sure she was prepared to finish this fight alone. So far the mountain lion decided it could continue to take on the two wolves and attacked again.

Deathbelle continued to dance to the left as she avoided a similar injury to the stranger. Her body twisted back around as she parted bloodthirsty jaws to rip into cat flesh. Belle sought out her prize from the cat’s shoulder, but knowing she wouldn’t have much time to gain a mouthful the woman bit and retreated. She nipped hard at the mountain cat’s right shoulder, and felt victorious as red blood started to stain fur.

WC:404