<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/SVgHqW2.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Iona Viliulf (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=300582.msg14694421#msg14694421)</span></strong><strong>AC</strong>: 14<strong>HP</strong>: 0 (disabled)  (initiative 5)<br/><hr/>Aware of a sudden tugging sensation, of being overpowered and twisted to one side as her blade, helplessly off-balance, suddenly points into the dirt and butts against her hip, Iona doubles up and tries to tug back, only to hear a ripping sound, the wet snapping of the wolf's maws and the hot gush of its breath on her neck and arm, then a forceful crash into the ground, face-first.  She tries to curse and swear and light into the wolf, but her body doesn't quite respond as she expects, and she realizes, shocked, that she feels cold<i>inside</i>her skin, and wet suddenly all over it.<br/><br/>She feels the wolf atop her.  She can't even cast a spell to cure her wounds--<i>If I move, it gets my throat</i>she thinks.  She rolls supine and grips the hilt of her sword like a lifeline, covering her head and looking over her own bloodied form to the beast.<i>By the gods it hurts now...</i>.  It's over her, and it may come back for more.  She doesn't know if she can even stand up.<i>If it turns, by the gods, I will gut that fucking dog.</i>Her breath is rattling and sharp, short gasping pants, pained.  She is furious and terrified.<br/><br/><br/><br/>