Righting herself, digging in, pressing forward. Jael's pulse is rapid, and so is her assault. A snarl, and something even more haunting-- sounds that only come from dogs doing their worst. Maybe she's at her worst in this moment, but that's okay. Jael isn't prey. The coyotes stand taller than she does, but they wouldn't be more clever. Monsters. Monsters.
Teeth. She's all teeth. Sinking into the coyote's flesh, all the savagery in her set free. There were things she'd been feeling, things that she doesn't understand or know how to cope with. Was this helping? It's not hurting. It's not hurting to allow the aggression, to allow the reactivity to grip her system.
Jael is covered in gore by the time she stumbles backwards. Face, chest, forelegs. Bleeding from the wound that circles her foreleg, that threatens the shallow point of her chest. How much of the blood was hers? Some. More of it, the coyote. Gore clinging to her pelt, taking a step back... still panting. It's only now that she's struck by it. The larger of the two coyotes is bigger than Jael. Fuck.
No more yipping. No more grumbling, scrambling, snarling. Still panting, Jael carefully moved back into the large man's line of sight. He looked whole, or as whole as he had when they started. Opal gaze only rests on him for a moment, carefully raking the woods around them. Every shadow could be a hiding place, Jael knows as well as any. Head still low, an anxious lick of her lips. Hard not to be nervous out here.
J A E L
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As her keepers, Gilgamesh and Modesty may join any of Jael’s threads if they deem necessary.
Professor
