Caught up in the heat of protective anger and the chaos of blood and flying hooves the pain of his shoulder was a distant thing, and his pacific nature buried beneath the instincts that were designed to keep him alive on the hunt. Not as fast as Nemesis or Andromeda or the golden woman Freyja he nonetheless galloped along with them, his bites landing only one to every two or three of theirs but powerfully. He snapped out again, the bite landing barely above the beast's hock as its leg extended backwards in its stride. The position allowed the teeth to sink deeply and when the leg was pulled forward he felt the fangs catch on ligament and instinctively clamped down with his jaws and pulled his weight back instead of letting go as he had been doing. He was pulled forward much as his brother had been but now the calf was far more exhausted and Hephaestus much heavier, and he was only dragged a short ways before something gave way and he tumbled onto the ground from the unexpected release of his grip, the abrupt landing shocking him out of his focused state. Continuing ahead the calf was stumbling badly now, bawling and dragging a leg made useless by the torn ligament, but Hephaestus remained sprawled, blinking up at the tableau formed by his siblings, the golden woman, and the failing calf, feeling the blood and gore coating his gold and tan form and feeling utterly bewildered.
