Time to face facts: you're cornered, faced with a latex wolf that seems intent on consuming you. You have nothing to use as a weapon, no possible exit, and are essentially down a foot. There are only two choices in this situation, and only one you're willing to take.
You weren't raised a quitter. You may not always fight your way through, but you know that when there's this much at stake it has to be done. You make a fist, thinking of all the men who came before you, who had to fight for their survival and way of life. Clenching your fist tightly, you know you too have to lay aside all your fears, all your doubts, and fight for everything you are and everything you ever will be. You're past the point of quitting.
The beast stirs, and with this you know you've waited long enough. With a battle cry that seems to shake the creature on its own, you launch a fist at the monster, every fibre of your being driving it forward. In a second, you hear a splatter as your hand punctures the wolf itself, forcing out a shrill howl before it drops lifeless before you.
Kneeling over your trophy, the victory slowly cleansing the bloodlust from your veins, you pull back your arm... only to find it stuck in the monster's corpse.