B1C3 Beowolf attack

A Beowolf isn't a `true` Elder Grimm… it's one of the weakest there is.

[...]

It was already too close, I turned at the last second, the moment I felt its breath wash over me, to raise my shield.

The blow sent me skidding back, boots kicking up dirt and pebbles as I tried to absorb the impact. I didn't so much come to a stop as strike a building, the unforgiving brick providing the halt to my momentum. Eyes widened, I threw myself to the side, awkwardly rolling across the ground as a claw impaled the wall I'd been standing against. The beast grunted for a second, apparently trapped. I couldn't get there in time, already on my knees and far away.

[...]

It charged towards me, still on all hours, despite that I was no longer moving. There wasn't even time to shout out or move, only lift my shield, plant my feet and hope for some kind of miracle.

"Gah…" the words burst from my lungs, along with all air as it struck. I couldn't breathe, but I was still able to feel the agony of wood exploding on my back. The Grimm pushed me through the first wall, carried me straight into and through the second as well. All I could see was black fur, all I could feel was agony. The second wall gave way with a crash, splintering on my back before we burst out onto open ground once more.

It then wrenched its arm up, tossing me aside like a battering ram it had no more use for. Through the air I tumbled, before striking the ground in an explosion of dust. Crocea Mors scattered across the dirt road, my shield lost somewhere in the grass. Only then was I finally allowed to draw breath into bruised and battered lungs. Even doing that hurt.

Snuffles and snorts from nearby told me the torture wasn't over yet. Muscles aching, body protesting, I pushed myself up and limped after my sword.

[...]

Something grabbed my foot from behind, and the only warning I had was my face slamming down into the ground.

[...]

I couldn't even move my arms; such was the pain.

[...]

That seemed to make it angrier, one paw buffeting me across the flank. The claws missed me, but the back of its hand drove what little wind I had from my body.

[...]

I threw a punch at its snout, causing it to snort in displeasure but not stop it in any way.

[...]

The Beowolf roared in pain. I hit the ground a second later, scrabbling to escape as the beast reached up to cup its burnt face.

[...]

Could I run? I wasn't sure… my aura was down below 40%, my legs shook and my body fought desperately for breath.

[...]

The first swipe came from the side, the great beast covering the distance between us in a matter of seconds. I took it on the shield, gasping as I was pushed back from the force of it.

[...]

With such poor footing my return was clumsy and weak, easily batted aside – and me along with it. Once more I struck the dirt, rolling and bouncing across the ground like the stones I'd skimmed earlier.

[...]

I managed to clamber back onto my feet, propped against the building I'd come to rest against.

[...]

When the Grimm suddenly spun, it only caught me with the edge of its claws, but those were still enough to tear great chunks from my armour and send me hurtling through the air. "Jaune, no!"

"I'm alive!" I gasped, though it was a small miracle. My armour had three great rifts torn into it, right where my heart was, but it hadn't actually touched my body. A single inch between life and death… too close for comfort.