35. Savior.

    Exhaustion settles in, the coyote is wearing down much slower than I am. I  tremble with my efforts, sweat beading across my body as I work furiously to finish him off. Before he finishes me. It's too big though, too stout, and with out my arms I can't kill it. I tried even to bite its neck, but it's fur was too dense for my smaller human teeth to get deep enough into it's pelt. The sounds of feet and howls in the distance remind me that I have a continuously shrinking time frame. I am going to die.

          I barely avoid a snap near my eye,  but my quick thinking spared me. The beast bites into the rope near my wrist instead, and with a sharp movement I am able to free an arm without losing my grip with my elbows on the animal's throat. I jab its eye blindly with my freed forearm. It tips and snarls, and I rake it's eyes again and dig my fingers into it's throat just under it's jaw as I