I missed his muzzle, teeth snapping uselessly at air, frustration earning another growl from myself as I was forced to pull away from him as he pulled back, damaging my chest even more. It was like I said before, everyone tells you about pain, everyone says it will hurt but no one can ever truly explain it, no one can ever make you really understand and for the rest of my life I would remember Attu- the first wolf to ever draw blood from me, to ever tear my flesh and make me realise I suppose- everyone bleeds, but not all blood tastes he same. My chest burned and ached, what I would come to learn was adrenaline managing to take the edge off the wound, blurring the pain enough to let my mind focus on moving, turning that wide circle. I was trying to remember all of my training and stay alive all at once. Nothing about this was easy and had he not been affected by the mushrooms I’m not even sure I would be winning right now. I had so much to learn, so much more then I realized. I lunged again, seeking the other side of his neck now, teeth biting down to tear it open, aiming to do as much damage as I could in that moment before lunging away again. He was much heavier, staying where he could reach me would be foolish, he would be stronger, I knew that- so I had to be faster. I dived away again, pivoting to face him, heckles lifted and bloody chest still dripping down to the earth beneath as the violet of my gaze sought his own- and he turned away.

I barely waited to see what it was he was looking at, I saw a chance, an opening- I think we both saw it that day. He made a mistake and I suppose in the end that is the difference between life and death, he made a mistake before I did and so today this battle was my own. I wouldn’t forget that, not as long as I lived. I felt each muscle in my form coil as if in slow motion, my chest protesting the action though I paid it little heed for now as I lunged forward with a final and decisive blow. My jaws parted, bloody teeth exposed to the light as I aimed to slam them down onto his throat in that single moment in which he offered it so unwillingly.

If my teeth found their target I would do as Micteca taught me, bracing myself upon the earth, head shaking savagely side to side to rip it open, tear a gash in it and let the life run right out of him. I promised Voltaire someone would pay and maybe this isn’t as good as Zeus and maybe that alone means I’m on a terribly slippery slope but for today at least, finally, someone was fighting back against Zeus….




m a j o r a
in disguise, cannot be identified