Bite
He tasted blood under his tongue, felt the flesh tear beneath his teeth, ripping away and getting caught. Any other time, it would have made him gag, made him sick to the pit of his stomach, leaving him heaving and retching onto the pavement. But not tonight. Tonight he had only one thought in his mind. Survival. Cold, hard and brutal survival, that took everything you had.
Survival that took biting into the neck of your enemy, once your weapons had been stripped and strewn and your hands were bloody and raw. It took every last shred of your sanity, and left you biting and clawing and fighting for each breath. It was not the way of the ninja, of skill, not anymore. This was beyond that. This was the voice in your head and heart and that screamed for survival and fought for your last breath. But more importantly, for the breath of his brothers. No matter how much it hurt.
But he did it anyway, because no one touched his brothers, and he would do whatever it took to save them.
Beneath his jaws, he felt his enemy slacken.