THE RED WOLF

FIGHT OR FLIGHT
Redd was motivated, more than motivated in fact. She didn’t realise that she had begun to feel the sting of pain until she actually felt it on Rodia. The wolf had forgotten the memory of physical pain because she had gotten so good in the arena that even she herself had managed to avoid getting injured. That was until she had escaped and found her way into the ranks of the Confederacy. There, tucked away from the real world, they had helped her return back to a healthy weight and had even managed to persuade the wolf that the motley crew could be something of a pack to the red wolf. A pack that had more than just lupines in it. However she had grown accused to the motley group and secure in her own skills as a wolf, but Rodia had been a wake up call.
The red wolf lacked the human fighting skills that were needed for certain situations and it had been with great frustration that she had woken up back in the medical unit once again. This time, it had been for a stab wound in her right side and severe gash to her shoulder. Not to mention she sucked at being told what to do. So when the medical staff told her to remain in wolf form, she growled and may or may not have bitten one of them. That was between her, the medical staff and potentially Gerwald. Who she hadn’t seen since waking up.
Which brought her to her next dilemma. Training. Redd wanted to train and with Gerwald nowhere to be found, it was harder to learn human fighting than she had originally thought.
So, when she was told that she could finally shift without doing more damage to her injuries, she did. The wound itself on her right side was bandaged and still sensitive to even movement. Her arm wasn’t as bad as her side injury was, but it was still sore to the touch and an angry red mark travelled from her shoulder, down her arm. It stopped short by her elbow and although it was healing, the skin pulled with movement and at one time she thought that the skin would split open once again. However, as she walked down the hallway of The Citadel where the dojos and training halls were, her golden green eyes had narrowed upon a man just leaving one of those training rooms. A man who she assumed was one of the Knight’s Obsidian.
She limped up to the man as he donned his jacket and her left hand rose up to shove the man back into the wall. His stunned expression was all that she saw written upon his face as she crossed her arms over her chest, of which to avoid wincing at the fact that the movement caused her pain. ”You. Me. In the training room. Now. I need to train and I need to train in my human form.” The woman almost growled at him, to push him into submitting into what she wanted. Which was exactly what she would do if she was a wolf. Redd was an alpha by her birth right and as he stammered with excuses, her arms unfolded while then her right hand reached out to wrap around his throat as she leaned in. ”No excuses. You teach me to fight like a human does.”
While she couldn’t prove it, she wondered if the bandages were a part of why he didn’t want to teach her. Did every two legger sit around at a leisurely pace while they healed? What a waste of time. Perhaps it was just her, but she couldn’t sit still. Even while hurt, she still fully believed in fighting, or in this case, practicing. Being forced to fight had taught her one thing; pain was irrelevant when it came to an opponent. They didn’t care if the one they fought were wounded, because they would still happily kill them if it meant they could live. Which was where the fight or flight response kicked in and a growl of frustration rumbled from within as the man seemed more scared of her than actually willing to train. So, her hand lifted from his throat and she took a couple of steps back so then he could leave.
Finding someone who had the time to train her and wasn’t afraid of her, was going to be harder than she thought.
The red wolf lacked the human fighting skills that were needed for certain situations and it had been with great frustration that she had woken up back in the medical unit once again. This time, it had been for a stab wound in her right side and severe gash to her shoulder. Not to mention she sucked at being told what to do. So when the medical staff told her to remain in wolf form, she growled and may or may not have bitten one of them. That was between her, the medical staff and potentially Gerwald. Who she hadn’t seen since waking up.
Which brought her to her next dilemma. Training. Redd wanted to train and with Gerwald nowhere to be found, it was harder to learn human fighting than she had originally thought.
So, when she was told that she could finally shift without doing more damage to her injuries, she did. The wound itself on her right side was bandaged and still sensitive to even movement. Her arm wasn’t as bad as her side injury was, but it was still sore to the touch and an angry red mark travelled from her shoulder, down her arm. It stopped short by her elbow and although it was healing, the skin pulled with movement and at one time she thought that the skin would split open once again. However, as she walked down the hallway of The Citadel where the dojos and training halls were, her golden green eyes had narrowed upon a man just leaving one of those training rooms. A man who she assumed was one of the Knight’s Obsidian.
She limped up to the man as he donned his jacket and her left hand rose up to shove the man back into the wall. His stunned expression was all that she saw written upon his face as she crossed her arms over her chest, of which to avoid wincing at the fact that the movement caused her pain. ”You. Me. In the training room. Now. I need to train and I need to train in my human form.” The woman almost growled at him, to push him into submitting into what she wanted. Which was exactly what she would do if she was a wolf. Redd was an alpha by her birth right and as he stammered with excuses, her arms unfolded while then her right hand reached out to wrap around his throat as she leaned in. ”No excuses. You teach me to fight like a human does.”
While she couldn’t prove it, she wondered if the bandages were a part of why he didn’t want to teach her. Did every two legger sit around at a leisurely pace while they healed? What a waste of time. Perhaps it was just her, but she couldn’t sit still. Even while hurt, she still fully believed in fighting, or in this case, practicing. Being forced to fight had taught her one thing; pain was irrelevant when it came to an opponent. They didn’t care if the one they fought were wounded, because they would still happily kill them if it meant they could live. Which was where the fight or flight response kicked in and a growl of frustration rumbled from within as the man seemed more scared of her than actually willing to train. So, her hand lifted from his throat and she took a couple of steps back so then he could leave.
Finding someone who had the time to train her and wasn’t afraid of her, was going to be harder than she thought.

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