Walking Tall

The efforts of the wolves attacking the tall creature's legs finally bore fruit when the giraffe fell heavily to its knees, sagging forward. Its long neck was held low, trying to drive the wolves back so it could stand again. Blood loss and the fight had exhausted it, though it would fight on from the adrenaline and was still dangerous. Most of the wolves there were large, easy targets for the giraffe to swing its head and hit with those odd horns, but Corbie was small, and fast. It would be harder for it to even track her. So without waiting for one of the larger wolves to take the risk Corbie leaped for the lowered throat from behind, catching hold of the sleek-furred flesh for a moment, long enough to slash it open in a spurt of blood, then fell away again. It tried to rise in one last enormous effort, throwing its head up high in a parody of offended anger, and nearly got its long legs under it before it sank back down and went still.