TW: mature post — gore
The pup wasn't running. Why wasn't she running!? He hadn't expected his words to be true, but the fourth coyote finally showed up and picked up the girl.
"See Jay!" he threw off the coyote and tried to make a run for her. The coyote that had grabbed her ran off, a second one running after it. Laurel tried to join in on the chase, but the remaining two 'yotes tackled him to the ground.
He was frantic now, trying to defend himself and get away. He couldn't seem to get a good hold on one, and the two canines clawed and bit, pulling out fur and drawing blood. He tried to call for the pup again, hopefully to hear her, but couldn't. She was dead, she was dead and it was his fault. He choked back a sob and squirmed away, managing to get back on his paws.
He dove for one of the coyote's necks and bit down as hard as he could, wildly shaking. Laurel didn't let go, and the coyote squirming only made him more determined to hold on. The second coyote tried to get him off, but the yearling persisted. When the coyote stopped struggling against his grip, he let go. It fell to the ground and made gurgling noises.
Now he faced the second one. Blood stung his eyes, every fresh wound stung. Lauraceae stood his ground, and eventually the coyote backed off.
His legs collapsed under him, jaws parted as he heavily panted. He couldn't tell which way they'd taken the tiny pup. Tears flowed down his cheeks as the yearling choked out his sobs. The coyote continued to gurgle, its legs twitching. Laurel sat by it as it suffered, wishing nothing but pain on the awful, evil thing. His own legs burned, and as the adrenaline ebbed away, his old pains returned to him.
Licking at the blood on his maw, Laurel watched the dying creature. His stomach growled. He had not eaten in a long time...
— End thread
!