Firestone Hot Springs i could love you

For an agonizing moment, he thinks he's about to die. Teeth at his throat, pulse fast and shallow, blood cooling rapidly in his fur even as fresh surges of it warm his wounds. And then he's in the water, coughing and snarling at the sting of sulphur in his nose and hot water in his fresh wounds. He barely catches the last of the man's words, but hearing them sends another flare of rage through the wraith. Adrenaline numbs most of the pain of his wounds and supplies the energy he's quickly losing to blood loss. Your fight fucking suck! He spits as he drags himself from the water, leaving a pink trail that rapidly starts to run deep red. What kind of shady asshole just — attacks people out of nowhere, in the dark? Fucking coward.
The pain hits him then, followed closely by the weakness in his limbs, and one foreleg folds beneath him before he can advance any further. His shoulder. Fuck. Where are Phillip and Maman? Not here, he hopes. He can't protect either of them like this.