Another one

The woman understood her role, it seemed. Fortifying her stance, tightening her hold, shaking with all her might to keep the bear from turning on Rhazien. He kept going to work on its throat, chomping and sawing, shaking and thrusting. Using his weight, shoving himself forward, sinking his fangs deeper, and deeper, and deeper… until splat! Hot, sticky, dark red arterial blood splattered across his face, spewing from the wound in pulsatory waves each time the grizzly’s heart took a beat. The roars of the bear morphed into something more childlike. Grunts started to sound like coos. Something akin to the noise that cubs make when calling for their mother. Rhazien had seen this behavior many times before. In the face of death, prey had the tendency to regress. Overwhelmed with fear, anguish, and pain. Wanting the comfort and warmth of their mothers.

And Rhazien drank it up. For a predator like him, animalistic in nature and overly cocky. It was a sign that victory was on the horizon. With the immense blood loss, and Rhazien’s constricting hold on its windpipe, the grizzly lost its coordination. Knees buckled, and it hit the ground. Still, he didn’t let go; still biting and tearing, nearly bathing himself in the blood. He wouldn’t stop until he was certain the bear was rigid and cold. Because only then would he be crowed the victor.


"Speech"