Quote Witchety Grub:<br/>Draekin growls his approval of Raissa's words, her actions. This night could have just as easily ended with her blood on his claws, and relief was plain in Draekin's gaze as he looked upon his mate. The people of the Nation begin to disperse, carrying out the Mystic's orders. Soon, the corpses have been cleaned away, and the wounded gathered for treatment. Draekin watches all this in growing pain and discomfort.<br/><br/>"I need to stand." Draekin says,"I must stand, I must be on my feet."<br/>His injury seems to infuriate him, as does the need to accept help from others. Any weakness on Draekin's part threatened his position as Alpha, and as such was not to be tolerated. In his stubborness, he refuses to admit the severity of his wound. He also refuses to seek aid and strength from his Spirit, a choice that only those that do not know Draekin question.<br/><br/>The 'Man' sprawls near the remains of the fire, flanked by two of Raissa's wolves. Terror rules his features, and he mumbles senselessly, pleadingly. His legs are a ruin and blood seaps from his lips as he rambles.