SilverRiverStock

Blood poured freely from his side. He had dropped his short sword a while back, using a paw to cover the grave wound. He stumbled on in the dark, the moon full as full and bright as a morning sun. Twigs and rocks threaten to trip him repeatedly, trying to get away from the mongrels he had left behind. They didn't know the forest as well as he, however they were not bleeding to death either. His tongue lolled out of his maw as he panted, feeling as his strength ebbed away in gushes. He took his paw away and looked at the darkened, matted fur there before returning it to his side with a wince. The ground started to wet his hind paws, coating