Partly Cloudy, 18 ° F, -8 ° C . Takes place the evening immediately after this thread.
Oula's breath hissed through clenched teeth as she trudged along. Now that the heady rush of battle had worn off, everything fucking hurt. The back of her neck, once a luxuriously thick mane of silver fur, was now clumped and matted, crossed with torn skin and crusted blood. Her back thigh, the very one that had been plagued and subsequently rid of mange months prior, sported an unappealing gash that slowly seeped. She supposed she was fortunate enough that the deranged woman had attacked her not far from home, as the prospect of sleeping out in the middle of nowhere stinking of fresh blood did not appeal to her.
The sun had begun to sink towards the horizon just as Oula crossed the intangible line of scent that separated Grizzly Hollow from the rest of the world, the stars just beginning to prick their way through the navy blanket of the sky. For the first time that day Oula's tired tread finally stopped, the cream and grey lady coming to a stand and letting her head droop tiredly. Her pink tongue flapped at the air as she caught her breath, and once her lungs were satiated with enough she tipped her head back. She coaxed a reedy, breathless howl from her ribcage, letting the pack know she had returned for the evening.