He screams as her teeth sink into his hind leg, and the instinctive panic builds. A wounded leg can't run, can't hold his weight, takes time to heal. He needs to get her off of him, and he needs to get away from her. There are many shops here, if he stops her before she tears in too deeply, he can get up high and hide.

Siffleur twists in her jaws and he kicks with his free back leg, aiming for her throat to tear it up. But the angle isn't good - he rips at the thick hide along her chest with his back paw, sinking his claws in deep as he can get them, but there's bone in the way protecting all the really vital organs. Throat or guts would have ended it, but he's missed both, and all he can do now is hope that the pain is enough to make her jaw open involuntarily.