“Y’found me, Lupin,” Fenrir rasped from the cold, hard ground. He’d stopped bleeding finally, but in the process he was soaked and too exhausted to get up. He would either lay there until he got some of his strength or die. Right now it was looking like the latter.
“And now what?” @darkestmccn
Remus’ breathing was heavy, he was hanging on through sheer stubbornness and adrenaline himself, the clear path of red behind him highlighting in one dark footprint after another in the bright snow. Last night had been...a mess. A hand went up to his face, wiping some more blood from his nose. Something truly horrifying had taken hold of the wolf, and he did nothing to try and contain it— brought him back, though, to the days with the packs. This was different, though, and that bloodlust which was so unfamiliar to him, which set his stomach churning like a boat in a storm, still remained.
He could finish him off, here and now. He could do it.
Instead, he stayed silent- slowly, sluggishly, pulling his wand from within his robes.
“Gotta think.” It was barely a whisper.