Iska fought fiercely, his every instinct driving him to seek triumph—to destroy his enemy. It wasn’t a foreign sensation snaking it’s way up his nape, but something he’d learn to embrace in time. For now, he summoned all the lessons his father, his mother, even Wylan had taught him.
Grappling with the coyote was much easier than the tiger, only he wasn’t as fast and took many snapping bites in the process of slamming the vermin to the ground. His jaws catching the coyotes side scruff, breath heaving as he lifted and slammed his opponent down into the grind repeatedly as it scratched at his chest and belly beneath him.
But as the coyote was a moment from passing out from the violent attack; a cry, sharp and panicked, reached his ears. His skull snapped in their direction, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the other two coyotes dragging the sickly wolf down. A guttural snarl ripped from his throat.
"Hold on!" he barked, voice edged with fury and command. Without hesitation, he lunged toward the pair attacking Abyss, abandoning his pinned prey in favor of the stranger's well-being.
Teeth bared, he threw his weight into the coyote clinging to their nape, jaws snapping to break its grip. One of his massive hind limbs struck out, seeking to stretch to kick the second attacker and knock it off balance.
He whirled, hackles raised, standing between his ally and the circling predators, his chest heaving as he snarled at the pack. “You look light. If we get the chance, jump on my back and hang on however you can. I can’t take them on and keep you from getting torn up before I kill even one.” Gods above, please tell him this kid didn’t have too much pride to understand self preservation. Anyways, the coyotes wouldn’t chase them with the tiger carcass on the line—that would mean abandoning the big prize for a sickly skinny one. He huffed, peeking from the corner of his eye at the other pup, urging them silently.
"Speech"
