The monsterous winged beast flew into Mark's view. He knew what they are, knew how blood-thirsty they are. But he had to much pride to run away, had to much power not to fight back. Like the other winged humans in the United States. One of the beast dived toward him at a threatening rate.
The wind changed and Mark took advantage of it by snapping out his wings, the wind pushed him back. Barely getting out of the way of the diving animal. Mark tucked in his wings and tackled the beast as it quickly snapped it's wings out trying to stop it's fall. They hit the ground hard, Mark delivered three hard punches to the beast wolfish human face. The second one came up behind Mark with a huge branch.
Mark dipped his head and punched it in the gut. The other one took advantage and threw Mark off of him. He quickly found a nice sized branch, nice and thick. He swung it wildly back and forth, trying to drive the monsters back. One caught the branch in it's jaws and yanked it from his hands and smiled, though with it's snout it was more of a snarl.
One pounced at him and Mark kicked out a foot and the animal was thrown back. The other one swung, Mark took a step forward, ducked under it, and brought his elbow up into it's jaws, breaking it. Brought his knee up into it's gut, and brought his fist down onto the back of it's head. He pulled out a switch blade and turned on the other. Driving the knife in repeatedly into it's body.
And then, finally, brought his knife down onto the others head. For a second, Mark rejoiced for he had triumphed. Then he looked up toward the sky, he was no longer safe at his home. He had to run, again...