A Covenant formed

The she wolf fell to a knee, rampage momentarily halted by the shock of pain and exertion, yet all the same her eyes began to shift to Torin. When a wolf shifter was in moon rage they had no control over their beast form, that much was well known. The only thing they could do at that point was kill, kill, and kill.

As soon as those eyes locked on him a pain in her ribs sent her sprawling backward with the crack of several ribs following the already loud boom of the gun. Being occasionally shot by hunters came with the territory; a human sees a giant wolf monster charging through the woods and takes a shot; perfectly understandable, but normally it was more of a nuisance. Both barrels of an 8 gauge however, well that was something she wasn't used to; it didn't kill, lethally wound, or even take her out of the fight, but it just got harder to stand, and a hell of a lot harder to run with the speed that helped make her kind so deadly. Unfortunately for Torrin the power of the gun was not entirely on his side, in fact it sent him too to the ground holding a shoulder which had been torn out of its socket and dislocated.

A yowl of pain escaped her muzzle as she slid back on her padded feet, clutching her bleeding side with a hand. The pain was severe, but she wasn't thinking about that, in fact, she wasn't thinking at all, the only thing that mattered was hurting the pesky little pissant that had hurt her.

As she was getting back the sorcerer's left glowed green and pointed toward her while the other hung limply from his side, something causing his face to wince with great pain. In he bestial state she may have anticipated some kind of attack spell, something  like a fireball or blast of magic, but no such attack came. All the while as she stood, he just kept pointing the arm at her and chanting while trying to scoot away on the ground while nothing happened. Until she was half way to him at least, when something seized her shoulder from behind with enough strength to hold her in place. A rare feat even in her injured state.

A low growl was the only response as the she-wolf turned to glower at whatever the thing was, teeth bared and drool dripping from her fang-filled maw.

A shadow much like the creature she had just vanquished was holding onto her arm. Its features and form were all the same, yet its eye bore a look of pain and desperation, like a trapped animal. Never the less it did attack, taking advantage of her wound, by driving its fist hard into her already cracked or broken ribs before throwing her face first into the parking lot asphalt with all its might. Fortunately it now fought to incapacitate, not to kill.

The she-wolf slammed down hard into the concrete, bone audibly cracking as she hit the asphalt and slowly rose back up. Red eyes glowing dimly in the dark of the night she rose to her full height, a slavering and savage beast. Yet she was hurt, all the same, no amount of rage would change that. Her instincts informed her of that much, she would rip this creature apart, and then the meat bag would be next, but she'd need to play it smart. With a hateful growl she lowered onto all fours, hackles raised as she decreased her profile and prepared for the monster to advance.

She was playing it smart in the moment to moment, but she had made the mistake of engaging to necromancer in his domain, where he had had plenty of time to set up defenses and guardians ready to summon. Yes the creature would advance, shambling slowly as the spirit fought to resist the necromancer's will; indeed it was clear he struggled to control something so powerful. Perhaps on equal ground she could have used that to rip him apart or turn the thing against its master. But this was decidedly unequal ground, and it was not the only threat. Before the She-wolf could act she felt the sudden feeling of a set of teeth tear into each leg from behind.

The she-wolf that normally was Peyton had decided she'd had quite her fill of this bullshit for the night. At this point, it was hardly surprising when yet another monster of some kind attacked her from behind, but it was annoying as all hell. With a primal snarl, the shifter simply reached back there, and piercing the creature's body with her claws, gripped it and proceeded to hurl it at the still approaching spirit.

With the large hound-like spirit she ripped off and through came a decent chunk of the flesh on the back side of her leg. While the one spirit with an unstable anchor to this realm seemed to dissipate when it was hit by the hound/wraith projectile, and the hound clearly wounded began to limp away from her; the creature with a hold on her other leg tore as well as it leaped back with another chunk of her other leg. The shifter may have had the spirit to continue the fight, but her body was an absolute wreck, one side of her ribs was shattered, she had lost tendons and flesh from one shoulder and both legs. Structurally she could not stand, she could barely crawl, and she was losing a good deal of blood.

She couldn't fight, that much was obvious even in her feral red-eyed state, so she did the only thing she could do. Facing the other spirit with a snarl, she locked eyes with it, mad bloodshot eyes boring into its own as she growled ferociously, baring her two-inch-long fangs. The threat was clear, even if she couldn't chase the thing down, all she'd need was one bite if it got too close.

"Hold..." The necromancer ordered prompting his remaining creatures not to attack, it was just a matter of waiting now, waiting for the blood loss to render her unconscious so that he could administer a sedative and treat her wounds which were admittedly far more extensive than he had imagined with his potions. He did not want to slay one of his covenant for something she could not control.

Fuck she was tired, so so so tired, the she-wolf tried to fight it, shaking her head rapidly and baring he teeth, trying to hold onto consciousness as her blood leaked onto the pavement. Yet eventually the thumping pain in her skull, and the drooping of her eyelids were too much, and she proceeded to collapse.

It would be four days before she woke up. Her wounds had been very extensive entire sections of flesh and tendons had simply been gone in addition to the collapsed rib cage, parking lot related facial tissue damage, and severe blood loss. On top of it all Torin was no great potion maker or healer, his brews took time to work, something which he had had needed generous doses of sedatives and a bit of necromancy to provide. Indeed any memories she had of those days would have been quite awful, brief flashes of lucidity where she could not move and barely speak as a grim specter of death hovered above her held at bay only by an unseen shied of foul magic while her tormented body mended itself. Despite all of that when she awoke properly in a generic black and white bed of the style provided by the council to call the place move in read; inside of an equally generic bedroom; her body felt refreshed and invigorated.

Peyton shot out of the bed immediately, claws drawn and skin cold with frigid sweat. Where was she?! When was she? How much time had passed? A a dozen or so panicked questions flashed through her mind as she surveyed her room, and tried to calm herself. Heart hammering in her chest like one big piston. What was that thing? What..what was any of all that? Almost instantly she caught the scent of Torin on the air and for a moment several horrific theories, each one worse than the last run through her brain. Her memory was a foggy no man's land, unnavigable in its obscurity. That left her with only her surroundings to go off, here she was a young woman in the apartment of a stranger, awakened from a bed that wasn't hers after a really trippy bout of sleep she couldn't remember falling into. Suffice to say it didn't exactly look good.

Without another moment she made a beeline to the door and shoved it open, determined to find the necromancer and get some answers.

Torin of course was not exactly the most knowledgeable on shifter transformations and their effects on memory; needless to say he didn't see her coming, but was simply going about his business in one of the other apartments making breakfast. If it helped though, she was in another apartment though which was basically identical to Torin's, but with even less personality. Interestingly enough the door to the apartment Torin used to inhabit had been thoroughly blocked off by a now metal reinforced door while waiting on a team to remodel the big hole in the wall. Though the door to the apartment he was currently in was unsecured.

But she didn't stop to consider any of those things, she just kept on moving, the sound of her feet hitting the floor echoing through the complex as she followed his scent through the ajar door of his apartment.

"Oh good morning. How are you feeling?" Torin asked in his usual friendly demeanor as she stormed in. He could tell that she looked some form of pissed off; which resulted in a genuine confusion on his face, as he filled his plate with eggs, hashbrowns, and sausage. Hadn't she been the one who had tried to eat him last he checked? Having lived something of a sheltered life, and not knowing how werewolf memory worked; he wasn't exactly sure what she had to be upset about.

"Explain." She barked back, hazel brown eyes turned flinty with a restrained hostility.

"What am I explaining?" The genuinely surprise and confusion, though with the look in her eyes he figured he needed to explain something fast so he opted for her inevitably strange recovery. He set down his spatula and spoke "I know the recovery process must have been quite rough, but you did flip out when that things dragged you outside then tried to eat me. So I believe the damage i had to inflict was warranted, I mean you wouldn't stop coming, your rib cage collapsed, you lost some facial tissue, and a good portion of both your legs and one of your shoulders... I did everything I could when you finally collapsed and stopped trying to kill me; I'm not a healer and I'm a rather pedestrian potion maker so I had to use some dark magic to keep you alive. Although I assure you, you are now very much alive and by no means undead. Is that what you wanted explained or are you going to be a little more specific?" The sorcerer explained gesturing to each of her rather extensive bandages covering large parts of her body. Then suddenly Torin looked thoroughly embarrassed, face blushing as he turned away from her "Also you can put some clothes on; your wounds are probably closed by now. I didn't exactly dress you because I needed access to treat the wounds, and after that it just seemed weird so I just threw some blankets on you..." Embarrassed his voice kind of awkwardly trailed off after that while being too shy to look at her again.

Hrm, those answers were...acceptable, so, for now, he could keep his organs inside of his body. Seemingly not noticing his embarrassment she did not move to return, instead deciding to continue the conversation "You say I flipped out? When? I've got no memories o' that but...that's typical of the moon fury. Everything's all red and rage, and you do things you regret" The shifter said with a wistful sigh, a bit of concern, a rare emotion for a shifter, showed on her face as she asked " Hey uh...did I hurt you? Or anyone else?"

"Sounds a bit like tequila to be honest." The necromancer managed a joke that felt somewhat awkward. "You tore that thing that pulled you out the window in half, but given it was dressed in human skin with bits of rotting human parts sewn inside with it. I think it's safe to say it had it coming." Torin turned off the stove and began to wash the pan as part of his ongoing and valiant efforts not to look at the fit girl without a shirt or pants in his kitchen, as he focused on recalling the story and the dished his blush died down a bit. "After that you had a go at me, but by then I had a gun. So I... kinda had to fire both barrels of an 8 gauge into your ribs, forced the disembodied spirit of the thing to try and subdue you with magic, and summon my own minions to assist. You clawed one of my dogs, but they're partially incorporeal, sentient undead so he was fine, and playing in the back yard again before the night was out."

Oh thank God! Peyton couldn't help the audible sigh of relief that flew from her lips as she leaned back against a wall, hands covering her eyes. Tension flooded from her joints as she ran both her hands through her hair, stress beginning to disappear "Jeeeesus, sorry about all that, couldn't exactly control myself once I gave in to it, last time that happened I-i...nevermind it's good it didn't happen again." She exclaimed with a dismissive wave of a hand, shooing away that inevitably morbid conversation topic. After a moment of rapturous, serene stress free silence, she turned her eyes back to him and spoke "Names Peyton by the way, I think I said that before but like I said, memories more than a little hazy."

"Well in case you forgot, I'm Torin" The sorcerer reintroduced himself and offered a hand to shake, it hadn't been taken the first time, and he wasn't sure whether it would be this time, but he tried to be polite and all that. "By the way do you need some clothes? Yours kind of exploded when you turned into a giant wolf creature. Oh and food as well? I've been giving you potions for nourishment on account of you being unconscious the last four days, but they ain't exactly filling are they?"

The she-wolf's eyes glittered dangerously for a moment as she responded with a toothy grin "You ain't lyin' friend, I could eat a horse..or two...But yeah I could use some clothes first, or at least a boulder-holder. You tied these bandages pretty tight." She noted with an almost accusatory smirk "But I'm assumin' I brought my bags in right? They should have my digs, where'd you put 'em?"