I'm Weak, and What's Wrong With That?

When the teeth of his newest opponent sank into his scruff, the boy released a snarl filled with rage. The tearing of flesh sent a searing sensation of pain down his spine, blood trickling from the puncture marks as the coyote clawed at his back to stay on top of him. His first reaction was instinctive, his head twisting over his shoulder as he snapped behind him. But his attack was in vain, as the coyote started to shake its head, causing his own to jerk from side to side and his attack to miss. The gears within his mind turned, as he conjured up a solution. But the pain coursing from his back made his thought process jumbled. So, he did the only thing he could think of at that moment; something his father had taught him, which was to use his bulk to his advantage. Without further thought, he lifted his front paws from the earth, shifting his weight onto his hind limbs to rear up. He felt claws digging harder into his back as the coyote slipped down, but it didn’t let go of his scruff. In a swift, single motion, Sephiran coiled his strength into his hindquarters before leaping backward, flinging himself back-first onto the earth. Which mercilessly crushed the coyote beneath him.

The shriek of pain that came from the coyote seeped into his ears and echoed within the towering pines surrounding the small clearing. The coyote frantically thrashed beneath his weight, trying to claw its way out from beneath him. But it was all in vain. Moments turned into minutes, and soon the coyote took its last breath, suffocating beneath the weight of his body and the bulk of his thick pelt. Sephiran didn’t pull himself back onto his feet until the cries of agony ceased and he felt it stop moving. His gaze fell upon his victim, and a look of admiration flashed across his face, before it shifted to his surroundings. Ears twitched upon his skull as he looked for the girl, who he expected to be laying on the ground, beat up. But to his surprise, she had just stopped chasing the last two coyotes and was several yards away from him. With his tongue hanging from his jaws, blood covering much of the front half of his body and face, he strode towards her. His chest rose and fell in an exaggerated way, as he was out of breath and panting roughly. He closed the distance between them, leaving only several feet of space before making a single demand. “Take us to the river.” He pivoted then, not waiting for her response, turning towards the direction he thought the river was. And then he waited, wanting her to guide him towards it, as he expected her to heed his command.


-exit-


”Speech”