note to self: never fight a wild boar alone - Sir Zane!

[h-hippo]

Mal managed one last rip at the boar's perineum before she scrambled back, pain shooting stars through her eyes. She barely dared to breath when the boar staggered into a tree, squealing and rasping. Pitifully, he tried one more lunge at Mal, and collapsed just short of her in a bloody, flailing mess. She only found the energy to lean away, caught between heaving and struggling to breathe, dizzily assessing her own damage. One badly injured back leg radiating pain through her spine and into her skull. Bad news: it was rapidly growing numb from the toes up. She had a rip in her face, a slice in her side with ribs that were probably bruised and fractured.

Her kind was known for rapid healing - but rapid healing wasn't instantaneous. Hell, it wouldn't even matter if she didn't bring herself to eat the damned beast that had been trying to tear her apart for the last 20 minutes or so. It would have been easier for the both of them if Mal hadn't made such a brutal mistake. She had underestimated how violently aggressive boars were, having only remembered them as 'prey' back from her pack days. The days when boars wouldn't pose a threat and ran rather than fight. It didn't help this boar outweighed her by a near 200 pounds.

The incremental journey between her spot and the boar felt like knives. It hurt to rip into it's flank, but suddenly, she was ravenous. The healing magic of her people ripped through her like fire, scorching her with the near violent demand for meat. Mal sat there for another 10 minutes, gorging herself on the insides of the beast, only pulling away when it occurred to her she might be incapable of eating further.

Thoughts had begun to ebb steadily from her mind, relying merely on primal instinct she slowly heaved upwards, feeling only marginally better. Mal had never decided whether it was part of the magic that there was some kind of pain relief, or if her body was slowly repairing itself.

Mal was growing careless the closer she found herself to her den, half-laying down at the edge of the creek that separated her from her den for a cool drink. Mal's entire mouth was a confusing mix of fire and needles, an annoying side effect of the healing magic.

If there was a part of her that didn't hurt, Mal would be damned to find it.

[Zane]

Fallon looked over the scene that he had stumbled upon for the third time, a boar carcass ripped to shreds, blood was everywhere, but not just boar blood. Really Fallon wasn't sure who else the blood belonged to but it was clear that whoever it was, they had won. Either that or another predator came and collected the other body. Lefiute was currently looking into finding a scent to track whatever had caused this. He looked down to his waist, there strapped to his belt was a silver dagger, given to him by those that had spotted him heading into this area. They had called themselves the Silver Sword. Werewolf hunters.

Those men had been the savages, they kept a feral werewolf in a cage of silver bars, occasionally throwing silver dust at it. In his head, Fallon could still hear the screams of the beast, it was a tormented scream, the beast was horribly disfigured from it's exposure to silver. It was a sad sight, and if the Silver Sword were tracking another werewolf, he needed to find it. Tossing up the silver dagger, he blasted it with the fire rune, then when to see if Lefi had had any luck.

And the red furred had. Lefiute was waiting for Fallon to come to him, the dog's Wolfish features shown through as he seemed to smile, proud of himself. Fallon pat the dogs head "Lead the way old friend." Taking the que, Lefiute took of down teh scent trail.

[h-hippo]

It had taken longer than she had expected to crawl into her den. She hunkered down as far as she could, pain ripping through her. At first, she had only considered the safety of her den. Not the pain of being curled up, or the eventual thought that if her leg healed wrong - which it would, with the magic flaming in her blood - that she would be stuck with a crippled leg. Or worse, she'd have to go back home to have the healer rebreak her leg to let it heal the correct way.

It hadn't been too long - or maybe it had? time was getting away from her - that she'd been laying, hiding, before she heard them. Something else was in her territory. And unlike normal wolves, who might be ready to hide and wait it out, her kind were not like that. They rose to the threat, because they were fighters. Generations of warriors.

Of course, that was probably why there weren't all that many of them.

Mal surged out of her den, her back leg lifted clear. Her tail curled, her lips drew back, and she braced herself. A dog - hound, something of some sort - and a person. Was there any saving for today? Was she actually going to die? Were they threats? He had weapons. A sword. She smelled silver. A hound - were they hunting her? Well, she wouldn't go down without a fight.

Snarling, fur bristling down her back, she stood guard. The signs were clear - get off my territory. Or at least out of my sight. Mala couldn't remember the last time she was threatening towards people. It wasn't a habit she'd picked up. After all, more of them than her.

[Zane]

Back when Fallon was a Mordecai, Lefiute had been just a pup, the first ranks of Mordecai were still trying to purge magic from all of the new nation, he had faced werewolves many times. Part of the reason that the world today knows of the silver weakness of werewolves is due to them. Fallon had seen men torn in half by a feral werewolf. Fallon silently prayed that the child of the moon that stood snarling before him was not feral, or He and Lefi would have a fight on their hands.

The moment that the werewolf came to face them, an aggressive snarl on its lips, Lefiute had pulled the dagger free, no one would threaten his master. It was still a curious sight, even after all this time, seeing a dog that could wield a knife, and Lefi was damn good at it too. Fallon laid a hand on his dog's rear. "Peace Lefiute." the dog obeyed, returning the knife to its holster on his shoulder and laying down, though he didn't quite like it.

Next, Fallon unbuckled his weapons belt and tossed it aside, well out of reach and too far to dive for it should the werewolf lunge at them. Raising his hands into the air, he spoke in a low and calm voice, "Neither my dog nor myself are here to harm you, in fact you could say that we are here to help you."

[h-hippo]

The moment the dog pulled free his sword, her growls turned thunderous. But she didn't move, because she knew - quite well, in fact - that any fight that would start between her and these two people wouldn't end well. For any of them, but she knew that she'd be on the losing end of any fight today. It didn't matter she was 410 pounds of mutated wolf beast, because a silver sword could do quite a bit of damage. Even her people, who were more resistant to silver than the cousins she'd heard about, still suffered from it. Silver was the badge of the enemy.

So she was not expecting Fallon to abandon his weaponry, nor did she expect him to ask his dog to holster his weapon - when could dogs have weapons? Was the pain making her delusional? She hadn't thought she was THAT far gone.

The growling slowly ceased, and instead, she snorted. Mal hadn't wanted to shift so soon - it was not going to be a pleasant experience. On a normal day, it was euphoric, one that elevated the shifter beyond all reason and senses. On a bad day? It was a sensory crash, trees falling, bones snapping - it was being torn apart by your own kind.

At first, there was a moment of panic. Her body wasn't responding. Her ears slicked back and suddenly, she felt as if she was on fire. Everything hurt as her body went liquid, rearranging, her skull feeling as if it was about to split. She needed help and she'd take it with both hands. Or he could kill her.

Mala tipped forward, laying down on her uninjured side, a snarl on her face, eyes still shining gold. She started cursing and snarling unintelligibly before she even bothered to acknowledge the two. The only thing good about the shift was that it hastened some of the repair of her body. Bad news: that meant her leg was that much closer to be fixed wrong.

"I know I look bad, but didja see the boar?" She finally said after catching her breath, not bothered at all by her nudity or the copious bruising, slightly healing wounds. Mal's main concern began to fix hurriedly on her left leg, stretching it out slowly, eyes slitted.

"You're not a pup, so why is your timing so bad?" She scowled up at Fallon, her face white under her freckles and tan.

[Zane]

"Better bad timing then no timing at all." Fallon looked over the woman, paying no heed to her nudity but more taking stock of her injuries. "Hey Lefiute, go find come King's Cross." The pooch nodded before taking of into the woods. He came up to the woman and knelt next to he outstretched leg. It was swelling in two places, probably broken in one and a fracture in the other. "I know your kind heal fast so I am going to reset your leg, I would be grateful if you would not tear my throat out."

His hold was gentle yet firm, hands too entirely warm, probably from the fire rune glowing on the back of his wrists. The warmth would help the muscles around the break relax as to make resetting the leg easier, not to mention less painful. One quick jerk and her leg was reset. Lefiute came bounding back into the little clearing, the herb in his maw. "I'm Fallon by the way, this is Lefiute." Fallon passed the herd over to the lycan. "This should help with any soreness after you heal."

[h-hippo]

Mal snorted. "If you say so," she mumbled, but didn't sound or look convinced whatsoever. Her look of discontent went to something more akin to sardonic disbelief. "If I have not done it yet, I have no intention of it. I am no cat - I do not lure or play with my food," her tone was unintentionally petulant, and Mala refused to believe it was from anything other than a broken leg and several flesh wounds. Usually, she was a much better sport.

The warmth made her sigh, muscles loosening readily. It helped take the edge off. Of course, that evaporated quickly as she gave a sharp yelp, pounding at the ground violently. When she caught her breath, she half-heartedly cursed in a tangle of half-snarls, Common, and her own primitive language.

Gingerly, Mal took the herb, still looking pale. "That will be bliss," she sighed. She glanced up, dark eyes tiredly gauging Fallon and Lefiute. "I am Mala. I like to meet humans when I am not quite so miserable, but it is nice to meet you nonetheless," she sighed. She reached out a hand to poke at his hand. "Are you human? Or a human wizard?" Her nose wrinkled slightly - not out of distaste, but more like remembering something associated with it.

Mal glanced at Lefiute, tilting her head curiously. "Hello, Lefiute. He is not common, is he? Most human dogs I have seen never have that eye gleam." She gestured vaguely to her own eye, but was interrupted by her stomach roiling and growling. "Ah. I am hungry again. I should have dragged the boar here." She sounded wistful, glancing at her leg. She stretched and reached carefully into her den, pulling out a sack. "What brings you into my territory?" She started wrapping her leg, setting her mouth as she made it tight. Unlike humans, she didn't think she'd quite need a splint, but some stability would be required.

[Zane]

Fallon frowned slightly, how would he answer that question. To be human meant that you had to grow old, it meant that eventually you would die. Fallon didn't think he were capable of either anymore. Better to just tell a white lie then explain a terribly long story. "Aye, I am human, although there" he indicated to the runes spotted one his hands, "are just something that happened, can't really explain them, they just happened. As for Lefiute, His mother and father were both wolves, I got him as a pup and trained him, he is quite a smart dog." Not to mention the few hundred years that they have been alive. "He practically speaks Common."

To this Lefiute started wagging his tail, he liked to be talked about. but what was curious to the dog was Mala, he had never came to close contact with a werewolf before, never seen a giant wolf turn into a human before. But the dog's confidence know no bound, he trotted right up to her and started sniffing away, started from her ankles and working up. Fallon realized what Lefiute was doing about the time the pooch got to her knees. "Lefi. Stop!" The dog immediately stopped sniffing and sat down, next to Mala that is.

[h-hippo]

Mal's head tilted curiously, pausing in the process of stabilizing her leg. Her brows furrowed, face scrunching as she tried to absorb this information. Mal wasn't obtuse or lacking in any mental capacity but her view - as was her pack's - was fairly limited when it came to 'others.' Not a human wizard, but a human with... markings? Spots? But clearly, they did something. It was hard to fit him, she decided that if his spots did things that he might as well be a human wizard. It was practically the same.

"That feeling when an animal decides to fight," she rotates her hand, as if trying to turn it out of her mouth. "Ah, interesting. That is the word," she finally adds, her dark eyes, diligently scanning Lefiute.

Mala watched Lefiute sniff up her leg, her eyebrows lowering slowly as he moved higher and higher. She had a sneaking suspicion that was then confirmed by Fallon's reprimand. She gave a throaty laugh, "I forget the behaviors of my cousins." She seemed amused rather than anything.

With a few deft, hard movements she finished the wrapping of her leg. Her face twitched with the flicker of a wince, her teeth flashing in displeasure. It had been a long time since she'd had an injury so serious. Granted, it would only last a few days if she were smart enough to take care of her leg, but even those few days would interfere with her eating. While at any other time, a few months without food wouldn't be a terrible issue, but without the meat and blood of prey to support her kind's magic and continue the regeneration of her body, her healing would be greatly impeded.

This presented a problem. "So, you help me, but not to leave me to die," she stated slowly, looking up into Fallon's face cautiously. "If I do not eat regularly, my healing will be slowed," she added, although her clarification skills were a little lacking. Her kind was a mix of rough, primitive words and a lot of body language.  Details were afforded to markings of where the herd of deer was last scene and for little else. But humans often seemed to need a lot of details.

"Not for free. When I heal, I can help with a task or some such," she added again, a little hurriedly, as if she'd meant to add it, but forgot for a moment.