Greetings! Much of this is already pre-written, just to let ya know.
Carefully the she-wolf stepped forward and placed her injured paw on the ground, wincing and gritting her teeth, then put weight on it. She let out a whining yelp at the pain that shot through it like a bolt of lightning.
She kept standing on it until she could bear it- that is to say, it was still excruciating but she was able to think beyond the pain... Barely.
Then she lifted one hind leg and scraped and scraped at the dirt around the accursed stick. The pressure on her paw was agonizing, but focusing on the digging helped. She tried pulling the stick out again after a few moments, but the result was the same as before.
So again, she dug at it. This time she rested on her hind legs and dug at the ground with both front paws. It was torture to even move her left paw, or tense up a single muscle in that leg. But she refused to give up.
"It's better than dying," she growled aloud to herself, closing her eyes against the pain, "It's better than dying, it's better than dying. This is only temporary." She clenched her jaws to hold back a whimper. It hurt so much…
After what felt like an hour she-wolf had to stop digging; it hurt too much. She panted and let her paw rest limply on the cool ground. She noticed absently that her paws both felt wet, and looked down.
"Ah," the she-wolf stated impassively, examining the smudges and thick smears of blood mingling with the muddied dirt and snow. She looked at her injured paw and sighed.
The bloodied gouges caused by the metal teeth that were sunk into her leg- they were flecked with bloody dirt and mud. She shook her head and sighed, forehead creasing in worry, 'It will probably get infected.'
And at this rate, she'd probably chew threw her own leg more easily than this wretched trap. She'd escape then, but minus a limb. If she survived the blood-loss and infection, she'd still have great difficulty hunting properly. She might die either way.
Then she shook her head again, more firmly and narrowed her eyes, "I will not give up. There must be something I haven't thought of…" She looked around, spotted a pile of rocks at the base of the cliff to her right. She cocked her head.
'Maybe I can use a rock to push it open somehow…' she thought, and turned around so she could reach one with her hind paws.
One claw touched a piece of rock, and she dragged it closer with her toes. Several larger rocks tumbled down with a clatter. Once she could reach it with her teeth, the red wolf picked up her rock and tried wedging it between the gray metal jaws of the trap.
It caused another sharp burning throughout her leg and she moaned with pain and frustration. She tried again, resting her paw and the trap on the ground. It pulled the torn flesh of her leg again, and she shoved the rock further in, gritting her teeth.
It hurt, it Hurt, it HURT!
She yelped and pulled her paw away- just as she felt the trap loosen ever so slightly. The rock shot out and went flying. If this didn't work she might have to start on her leg after all.
The she-wolf sighed heavily and tried to reach the rock again. Her toes brushed against it, just as she heard an odd noise. A… clinking. Or jingling, like the horrible metal links. But it wasn't coming from the rock or metal, and it was a very odd sounding-…
Oh no. She'd heard of this noise. In stories.
Stories about a ferocious monster who could and would kill anything. Two monsters: a wolf and a ram.
The she-wolf looked up in horror, and spotted a large shape moving along the edge of the cliff far ahead. It was still far away, almost hidden by a few bare trees and brambles, but there was no mistaking the shape that was heading toward her.
It was larger than a wolf, with long thin legs, and a thick neck ending in a long head and blunt nose. Two long horns extended over the face, curving and pointed at the ends. At the front of the chest the faintest glimpse of a yellowish brown thing could be seen- that was where the jingling noise came from.
'At least I won't be killed by humans,' the she-wolf thought to herself grimly, 'Maybe the ram-monster will so ruin my hide that the humans will have no use for it when I'm dead.'
Then again, she thought with a tiny flicker of hope, maybe the creature hadn't seen her. Not yet at least. When it glanced away, at a bird flying out of a bush behind it, the she-wolf pulled her leg back and curled up flat on the ground. Hopefully the creature would mistake her for an old log or large stone.
The creature walked along the rim of the rocky cliff, closer and closer. The wolf struggled to keep her fur from bristling. No, it was too far away anyway. In fact, it was turning away, to the woods on its left. Maybe she still had time to dig or gnaw through this wretched stick!
The she-wolf dug with frenzied speed, doing her best to ignore the agony in her leg but couldn't. The brief moment of rest had lent new strength to the throbbing pain, and it filled almost the entire limb now. And it was so tired she could barely move it.
So the she-wolf planted her paw firmly on the ground- causing her to nearly topple over from pain and weakness- and dug and dug with her one good front paw. At the same time she resumed biting at the stick.
Her paws burning, her mouth full of splinters, her heart pounding, the she-wolf dug and bit and pulled as hard and fast as she could.
When she remembered the new reason for why she was doing so, and looked up to see if it was gone, her heart nearly stopped. The creature was coming down the rocky slope right toward her!
The she-wolf is very thoughtful and cautious, and a bit shy-ish. She's a wierd character. And yes, she does refer to Chrin as 'the creature' alot, because he certainly doesn't look much like a sheep, and he looks like a goat but supposedly isn't. So what is he? Answer: I dunno. My theory is that his dad was a goat somehow, so maybe Chirin's some kind of hybrid or something.
