Jellicle cats

The Archer-Lyall could feel the fight slowly leaving the cat, hastened with the second blow of Magnus’s blade. There was a deep sadness in the pit of her gut, despite her wounds and earlier frustrations. The cat had put up a good fight, and if it had been anywhere further from the borders she probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but they were both stubborn and had chosen this hill to die on. The only difference was that Sedna had called for back up.

As the heavy body hit the ground, she maintained her grip. She had seen others overconfident walk away with scars for their inexperience and she wasn’t going to be that wolf. Not today. Only when a hard stare showed dilated pupils and the flow of blood from the cats wounds had slowed, no longer pushed by a beating heart did she let go, the tension leaving her shoulders, head hanging limply towards the ground. Her tail gave a small wave before she gave a shake, flinging any remaining tension back into the universe. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears but it was done with. Lopsided grin on her face she moved to bump her uninjured (well, less injured) shoulder with Magnus in silent celebration. The fight had taken more out of her than she had thought it would.

"speech".