Morielle felt the intense pain. In her young mind, she knew she had suffered more than a bruised shoulder. It was dislocated. She clutched at it with her other hand and staggered back, heaving. Her eyes never left the leaping leith, seemingly excited to have someone to play with first before eating her later, if it was lucky enough.
She pulled back her dislocated shoulder, suppressing a loud moan that ended up as a low grunt. At the same time, the wild black beast charged at her once more while the Naim recruits were dumbfounded, jaw hanging and the rain pounding their head and the ground.
Morielle prepared herself, slight bending forward and shifting her on her booted feet. She had to make sure she was going to do this right at the first attempt. Otherwise, she would get injured again
