Drooping Willows Might Hurt Someone

The fight was over, it had to be. She was kicked off, not too painfully, but paws stretching out in different direction and slipping, she landed wrongly on the solid ground. Her body screamed in agony, but she kept it hidden and debated charging once more. The mountain wolf that had high endurance, she wasn’t easily tired out, but now, she was practically dying of fatigue. The thought of trying again seemed pointless, and tiring. Her fragile lean body stopped shaking, head bouncing slowly to each inhale. It was obvious she was done. There was no fight left in her. The chillingly cold rain was making things too dangerous, each step became a challenge. It would be stupid for such an event to take place, and Treena believed she had already won. There was nothing left to accomplish, except murder, and that took things too far, even for the blood-lust that ran through her. She’d never be just a vicious killer, victim innocent or not. That moment, with each heavy pant that left her tight firm mouth, she became even more confident of the choice. She had fought another female, and victory was hers, that was enough. She stepped back, feeling the mud shape her small bloody paws and let her tongue shake desperately for air.

Then, with a snap at the air, and a warning bark, demanding not to be followed, (like it was on the list of Sibyl’s priorities), she turned. It was a quick knee-jerk reaction, to run. Through the territory, her body weaved through the rain, washing away the blood which was stained onto her fur. She ran towards Poison Path, limping. That was enough drama for one night.

OOC: Finished?

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v201/bluepups/sibtable1.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-top: 315px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; text-align:justify;">As soon as Sibyl succeeded in kicking off Treena she rolled to her feet. Her stance was a low crouch, with her belly touching the ground and her tail pulled underneath. A wavering mewl emanated from her quaking form, standing on unsteady, trembling limbs that were streaked with a dark mix of mud and blood. In her peripheral vision she saw Treena steady herself on the slippery soil, and seemed to be preparing for another attack. Sibyl wouldn't stick around long enough for her to decide, though. This cruel stranger could have the fight, the tree, the whole damn forest, Sibyl was getting out of here.

The rough bark and clack of teeth from the female was all the urging Sibyl needed to spin her around and send her speeding off into the night. She wasn't sure if she was being followed, but she was sure if she was fast enough it wouldn't matter. The heaving of her lungs and the stretch of her long strides pulled at the wound in her side but she ran on through it. She would run until she fell apart, as long as it got her far, far away from this whole mess.

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