She didn't see Thistle sitting on the beach when she stumbled into the territory. She was still panicking, still fearing the male had followed her here. Thistle's voice broke through her racing thoughts, and Julooke struggled to lift her head. Did he- did he follow me? she asked about the male who attacked her, her voice thick with fear. If he did, he could attack Thistle, as well. Her friend sent out a frantic call as Julooke laid her head back down. She felt the pressure on her neck, realized Thistle was placing her paws there to stop the bleeding. She heard the questions, but struggled to answer. She hadn't known who her attacker was, but she know an important detail. White eyes, she said.
One by one, more pack mates came. With Ragnar, Beric, and Verrine here, there was no way her attacker would succeed in a fight, even if he did follow her. She let out a deep sigh before finally submitting to her exhaustion. The adrenaline that coursed through her body and allowed her to flee was now dwindling, and shock was taking over. The blood loss made her dizzy and weak, and her eyes shut softly as she slipped into unconsciousness.