Rey makes small slash after small slash into the creature's thick skin, making very little progress as Strange continues to try and bury the thing. She stumbles backwards on a rough dodge, narrowly missing claws slashing toward her gut, and springs back to her feet, jumping up onto the wolf's back the moment Strange has one of its claws pinned.
She slams the blade down, point first into its shoulder, angled toward its neck. There can't be a person under this monster. She refuses to believe this could be anything like the other werewolves. It's some forgotten monster that has been unleashed on them to hunt them down like a ferret after rabbits in a warren.
She shudders at the awful screeching howl that the injury rips from the wolf beast, but it doesn't stop it from moving and even as she tries to hoist her weight down into the blade it sinks too slow, much too slow, and its other arm comes at her again and again, trying to rip her from its back.
Strange's blood, the beast's blood, and her own are all in the air around her, and her mind races down dangerous threads, goading her into fighting back teeth for teeth. So much power must be in this thing's blood but it smells awful, makes her stomach roll even while her mouth waters. Fire flares up around her hands like an aura and she screams right back at the howling thing, tapping into survival instincts fueled by the racing dhampir blood in her veins. She lets go of the blade, sticking out of the creature, lodged in muscle and skin independently of her efforts, in favor of grabbing the beast's face with her hands. Her fingers search for its eyes and the smell of burning fur sizzles into the air around them.
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She slams the blade down, point first into its shoulder, angled toward its neck. There can't be a person under this monster. She refuses to believe this could be anything like the other werewolves. It's some forgotten monster that has been unleashed on them to hunt them down like a ferret after rabbits in a warren.
She shudders at the awful screeching howl that the injury rips from the wolf beast, but it doesn't stop it from moving and even as she tries to hoist her weight down into the blade it sinks too slow, much too slow, and its other arm comes at her again and again, trying to rip her from its back.
Strange's blood, the beast's blood, and her own are all in the air around her, and her mind races down dangerous threads, goading her into fighting back teeth for teeth. So much power must be in this thing's blood but it smells awful, makes her stomach roll even while her mouth waters. Fire flares up around her hands like an aura and she screams right back at the howling thing, tapping into survival instincts fueled by the racing dhampir blood in her veins. She lets go of the blade, sticking out of the creature, lodged in muscle and skin independently of her efforts, in favor of grabbing the beast's face with her hands. Her fingers search for its eyes and the smell of burning fur sizzles into the air around them.