Tangled

<79 Ava: Fighting Back

79 Ava: Fighting Back

Todd’s wolf form prowls closer, his hackles bristling with menace. His eyes burn with a feral hunger that sends tremors through me. Anticipation hums in the

air between us.

The tree trunk is rough against my back as I use it for support, forcing my body to its feet. The cool weight of the pocketknife in my hand keeps me centered.

I will not cower.

The mysterious energy from before, that primal force filling my veins, is gone. It’s a fleeting whisper of the past, eluding my grasp no matter how desperately I

search for it.

All I have is my training and the small knife I’d stolen from home.

I flip open the blade with a flick of my thumb, the soft click lost amidst the snarls and growls of the ongoing battle around us. At least, I hope it’s lost. I know wolf hearing is keen, but I don’t know its limitations.

Todd’s lips peel back in a vicious snarl, revealing

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79 Ava: Fighting Back

yellowed canines. It figures that even his wolf’s teeth

would need some work. His breath had always smelled

like those tuna sandwiches he eats.

He lunges, a blur of ruddy fur and gnashing jaws.

Instinct has me diving to the side, scrabbling for purchase on the uneven ground. He whirls to face me as I roll to my knees, gripping the knife tightly as I swipe at his muzzle. The blade catches a superficial level of skin and fur, drawing a thin line of crimson that only seems to enrage him further.

my heart pounding

my

my face. Nausea churns in my belly, courtesy

through fur and flesh. A guttural yelp tears from his throat, but

the force of a large adult wolf and an entire

lungs as I hit the ground,

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Ava: Fighting

across my vision before it fades, just

beneath Todd’s paws, pressing down on my shoulders with crushing force. His hot breath washes

stench, his muzzle inches from my

but his claws are like miniature daggers digging into my

unyielding.

strength, I manage to free one arm and lash out blindly, my nails raking across his muzzle and smacking against

my mark, but it startles him.

back with a snort, giving me a moment

to the side, scrambling for the knife as he

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my way as my fingers scrabble for the knife, its silver blade glinting in the moonlight. I’m bleeding. The scent of my blood

Ava: Fighting

Faster, damn it.

been lying just moments before. His jaws snap shut with a resounding clack. Flecks of spittle

gash across his ear, his neck. A guttural yelp rips from his throat as he snaps at my

feet away. How many have set upon us? Too many to count. Did

can’t worry about

have to deal

gasping for

Agony.

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Ava: Fighting

wild jabs of my hand. I hit something, because blood coats my hilt

ground with a wide movement of his head and upper body somehow and I backpedal, my heel

startled scream, and he’s on me

in no position to dodge. I have no

as his weight slams me into the ground beneath him. My fingers scrabble against the knife as I yank it out and stab again and again, even as he snaps

of crimson. A strangled whine escapes his muzzle before he finally goes limp,

his rancid breath. There’s no breath at all.