Wild Berry Meadow no man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate

Snapping violently, his taste for blood grew and his desire to finish this quickly did too until a feeling brought him back to reality. A joint was hurting. His balance was off and he instinctively pulled his leg away, in doing so he had to leave the prey under him in order to regain his balance by shifting his weight off the leg that was now pulsating. 

Looking down at the injury, some blood dribbled, but that wasn't what he was concerned about. A snarl roared from his vocals as he glared at the woman with a bloodlust rivaled by a rabid wolverine. She injured a joint. A joint of all things! Rage boiled in his blood, and everything screamed for him to go forward and continue with his attack; but as much as he wanted to do so, and oh how he wanted to. The injury was nothing to ignore. He now had a weak spot. A place for her to aim at. 

Granted wolves can survive on three legs, but to wait for the wound to heal was his current concern. What the hell was he going to do in the meantime to let it heal? How would he feed himself? How would he protect himself? If he kept at his rampage, the leg would get damaged furhter, something he didn't believe was worth the effort in continuing his battle for this woman's flesh.