no heroes

Kaprasíus Sigrunn Finnvi was fucking pissed.

For the first time, perhaps ever, he'd taken the brunt of someone else's foul mood. Most wolves might've been appalled at the sudden violence, or maybe they would've fought back. But Kapra had merely been stunned. It seemed his judgment had failed him; who knew they'd been mourning a lost loved one? The Finnvis did not mourn like puppies crying for their mothers, pouting and moping as though their pity might somehow bring back the deceased. Despite the girl's sudden outrage, it only further proved the point that the wolves of Alacritia were pathetic and weak.

He'd find Katja soon, he knew, but for now he had more dire things to attend to. He felt the steady throbbing of pain in his face as he stalked away from the group, a sneer resting on his lips. The side of his face was in far worse shape than he realized. A deep wound seemed to lengthen his sneer, trailing up to his eye, the wound open and fresh. Still his vision was gone from the damaged eye. He didn't quite know the extend of the damage.. but he knew he needed help, and he knew just who to call.

Finally, making his way into the thicket, he'd lift his head high and let loose a powerful call to Kar. He owed them a favor, and Kapra was intent on redeeming it right now.. and he was in no mood to be told no. Once his call was concluded, he'd continue to pad through the dense thicket, searching for any sign of a river to begin to clean his wounds. Slowly the adrenaline from the attack was beginning to fade, and the pain grew more fierce, slight delirium setting in as he felt his word growing hazy around him.