Fairspell Meadow Keep me running, running scared

The male startles her again when he rises, bristling and snarling, and she stiffens. A grimace tugs at her lips when she sees the blood, and she hopes she doesn't have to kill the poor fool. Fortunately, he seems to settle after a moment — enough to lie very unconvincingly, at least. You don't look alright, She says, tone laced with the hint of a challenge. After a brief pause, she reluctantly adds: I could help. She doesn't really want to, but she'll probably insist anyway; she can't just watch another wolf suffer, or walk away from it as if it isn't happening.