She had gotten far fro a wounded wolf, Ray would have to give her that. By the time he tackled her, willow was patting hard and heavy. What energy she did have had been burned completely in fleeing, so beyond a snap and a few growls, Willow couldn't fight him off.
Which was good because relaxing or exhaustion often make then shift back to normal. As she lay panting under the heavy man, her long pink tongue hanging limply out the side of her mouth, Willow's golden eye watched Ray with hatred and fear. How the hell could he speak to her and how the hell could he run that fast? It should have been impossible. As the minutes ticked away, Willow's form shifted slowly, her fur shredding off into the forest and her bones reforming once more. Her heavy pants turned to labored gasps and before long, Ray found himself laying on top of a boney naked sixteen years old that he was holding the neck of.
"Get off me!" She screamed, getting a small second wind, and tried to twist free of his hold. But he was too heavy and she was to exhausted. "Let go! Get off-"
She heaved several deep breaths as her weak attempts to fight him off failed and her arm throbbed alive with fresh pain.
"Ah.. fuck." She wasn't sure what hurt more. Being shot with tiny pellets or stepping in a beartrap.
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