Quote Witchety Grub:<br/>His eyes still wild with adrenalin and bloodlust, Draekin seems to barely restrain himself from snapping at Kiitani's firm hand. But there is strength and calmness in the Mystic's touch, and a feeling of warmth that settles the Spirit within Draekin. He yelps once in pain as the Birdman deftly breaks the spear shaft, but with the weight of the shaft gone, the Alpha wolf instantly feels some relief, and he trains his mirrored gaze upon the Mystic thoughtfully, blood still pulsing thickly from around the spear-head.<br/><br/>And then Raissa is there, her tenderness soothing his hurt, both body and soul. With her arms still around him, he lowers himself to the ground, rolling painfully onto his side so that the spear head sits upright in his chest, as if pinning him to the ground. Her lips at his neck bring a slow, rumbling purr to his throat, his limbs relaxing and stretching pleasurably, her love a cradling ocean. He reaches one hand to her neck, gently urging her to release him so that he might look at her, his eyes searching for injuries. He seems to relax even more when he finds none. Then he notices the blood at her throat, the stain put there by his own hand, and he draws back his blood soaked palm back hastily, as if ashamed. He frowns at the life's blood he has smeared across his mate's sleek fur.<br/><br/>The whimpering of the Man refocuses Draekin's attention outward, his lips peeling back to bare his teeth suggestively at the terrified Man. "You have done well, Raissa," he growls, "you bring honour to the Nation." His eyes shine with pride, hiding the confusion within.