Without a paddle

Abyss’ warning was ignored by the pack of coyotes. The rustling of their paws in the underbrush grew louder. And their snarls, grew more hostile- more bloodthirsty, with the realization that one of their foes was sickly. Abyss couldn’t blame them entirely- the tiger carcass was a hearty meal, and it would feed their group for days. But coyotes were opportunists. Scavengers. There wasn’t a doubt in Abyss’ mind. The pack would try to kill them too.

They were closing in on the pair of young wolves. The boy at their side must have sensed the impending danger- the severity of the situation. Abyss felt a nudge against their shoulder, which earned another gurgling growl. “I will n-not die.” They say through gritted teeth, steeling their resolve.

Abyss felt his looming presence gravitate away from them, taunts spilling from his lips, before snapping jaws and yelping filled the space around them. A coyote came barreling at Abyss, grabbing onto their right front leg. They cried out before snapping at the scoundrel, holding onto their attacker's chest. With a violent shake of their head, Abyss blindly tore into the coyote's chest, trying to force it away.

But one of its counterparts emerged from the underbrush beside them, grabbing Abyss by their nape. Another cry left their maw- only this time, there was a heavy sense of alarm in their tone. Panic. Two coyotes were attacking them, and Abyss was too weak to fight them off alone.

"Speech"