He was the hunter, the shark in the water, the knife in the dark, the--  No.  No.

Kjell was the dragon, death from above as he swooped in and gobbled the dark creature up for threatening his sweet friend.  Teeth hooked under fur and into flesh; whatever he lacked in experience, instinct seemed to kick in.  Shoulders rolling closer to his skull, the male thrashed.  For once, the Mother (Mother Nature as she should aptly be titled in this case) seemed to favor the younger wolf.  The wet ground gave way, and seemed to gobble Zerxes up where he stood.

The dragon’s son was more than happy to let the frowzy heathen fall, whirling about as he shook out his head, and his neck – he hurt, he hurt, but the dragon howled with its victory and his blood sang out.  Oh, oh, but he was alive.

Loping forward, Kjell brushed his body against Pip’s.  She had come for him.  A great many thoughts, he had on that, but he would leave himself to investigate later.  Now, for now, he had to get her away from here, just in case that creature decided to come back.  “C’mon, beautiful,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “Let’s get lost.”

Exit.