come hell or high water

If she chases, they will come. Come they did. Three other wolves, melting from the shadowy red treeline. The large, pale man is the first to actually ask if he can come along, and Riot gives a nod over her shoulder. All the breath in her lungs committed to pursuit, she can't spare more. Not yet.

As they close in on the herd, she lets go an ungodly snarling. Half barking, half something far worse, it's enough to scatter the rest of the oxen. Circling their chosen prey like sharks in the water, Iscariot reaches out, grazing the already bloodied face of the dazed creature. Pushing him back toward her compatriots, pure violence and energy coursing hot in her bones.

"Iscariot"