Arrow Lake I'm good it's just a scratch

the wind bore upon its back the stench of cat, and of blood. mahler did not hesitate, but lunged powerfully through the drifts in the direction of the dangerous reek. to defend the borders from a wolf was one thing; to defend against the claws of the felines who roamed the mountains was quite another.
gathering a summoning roar in his throat, mahler cut it off quickly when he saw that there was no cat. only kazimir, returned from her task, wounded and bearing the swinging head of a coyote. pride tugged briefly at his lips, but it was with a somber expression that he approached. "you killed it anyvay," he commented, remembering what he had told the geist about endangering herself.