King Andrew's pov.
Almost. Almost near. Almost near me, I run towards him and glide off the ground, using my feet to keep his paw stuck and use the rest of my body to hit his, making him vibrate backwards. As he does, I use my right feet, whilst my hands are holding his left front paw, to hook his face to the ground, keeping him still, and detach his paw from the rest of his body, crunching the bone and letting it fall beside him. He screams in a wolf way— which makes it much of a howling rather — into the air.
"Moko." I say, and he nods. One feet, stepping forward, his right hand rises and his fingers clip, bending the earth beneath the omega to puke up and a shard of it pierce past his body, pinning him.
I approach him when suddenly Moko goes down, letting his hand feel the surface
