It was fortunate that he'd fed so recently. If he hadn't, the fight would have gone much worse. When the wolves ran away, he kept up his position, patroling around her house in constant circuits. As the adrenaline began to wear off, he could feel the injuries more potently. He would heal fast, he knew, but still the pain was severe. One arm was most definitely broken, and one leg would barely support his weight. He staggered his way through the woods, fighting the urge to go tearing off after them.<br/><br/>Added to the pain that he was slowly becoming aware of, was the familiar urge he hated so much. He could feel her drawing near, and knew what it would mean. She would expect him to attend her, yet again. For now, however, he could do nothing about it. He could only wait for his injuries to heal, wait for the girl to emerge from her house, wait for something more to happen with the wolves...