A knife flashed toward his eye and he ducked his head only enough for it to go through his ear. Now mindless with pain Rain stretched his neck and tore out the Goblin's throat, again with the next Goblin, two Goblins flopped back dead. But there was more, so much more, and he couldn't reach any more necks!

No matter. He could start with the extremities.

He mouthed a Goblins hand and with a snap he severed it from the limb. He whipped to the right where a hand held him down at the shoulder. Snip. Forearm was now two parts and a dismembered arm flopped off his shoulder. A nearby leg, bite, gone. A stomach, torn open. He bit down on a shoulder and crushed the Goblin's clavicle, it screamed until he managed to get its neck.

The dome of Goblin flesh united in keeping him down began to crumble as the screaming spread. He freed one of his arms and pulled down a Goblin until he could reach its neck. Another. Goblins who had been brave enough to hold him down as a team now panicked, and once the team started to fall things turned chaotic. Blood splashed across Rain's body as he ripped and tore. A Goblin tried to escape and his paw snapped out and grabbed its ankle dragging it back screaming into the pile and into his teeth.

He kicked his legs and struggled. He was stronger than they were individually so the more their pin failed the more his advantage snowballed. By this point he was freely snatching at limbs and dragging screaming Goblins to his mouth as they climbed over each other desperate to escape. Unfortunately for them the press of bodies from Goblins on the edge of the crowd made that difficult so he had free reign to kill and kill and kill. Blood pooled between the bodies so thick that it came up over his feet. He crawled amongst the thrashing and the dying seeking more life to end. Blood ran into his eyes, his vision was red. But he wanted more.

Some time later he crawled free from a mound of corpses on his hands and knees.

He was beyond exhausted and on the verge of collapse. He somehow managed to wobble to his feet and take in the damage.

First he looked at the camp. It was empty, thank the gods.

Then he looked at his body. A half dozen knives stuck out of his flesh. His paw trembling he wrapped it around the handle of a stubby blade embedded in his belly. With a keening whine he slowly pulled it free, to his relief it was only shallow, in fact as he slowly moved over his body, plucking bits of metal from his flesh, he realised none of them went particularly deep. It seemed to be as before, a combination of the crude bluntness of the metal and his own toughened flesh prevented deeper injury. Still, it fucking hurt, and he was pleased to be rid of it all.

He limped around and stared at the pile of Goblin bodies, some were still alive but unable to move either due to injury or being crushed by the weight of their peers. He wanted to leave them, but he could feel unconsciousness flitting around the edges of his mind from sheer exhaustion. It limited his options. So with a stony heart he used one of the knives they had stabbed him with and gave the Goblins he could reach a swift end.

He dropped the knife and stepped away on shaky legs. He needed rest but somewhere he wouldn't get stabbed in his sleep. He didn't have much choice. He made his way to one of the Goblin tents that hadn't been damaged by the brawl and crawled inside its cramped quarters.

Five seconds later he was out like a light.