With each stride the fur on his paws became stickier and stickier, red liquid that held a heavy stench of sweet metallic, iron-like, of the fallen matting the fur on his paws and legs.
Wolfram finally slowed to a walk, his dark pelt unseen in the darkness of the shadows. His ears flattened to his skull as a horrified scream split the air, floating over the sounds of frantic yelling and even gunshots for a brief moment. He let his gaze drift over the infinite battle-field, his heart sinking at the sight.
Pure and Inhuman bodies lay scattered everywhere he looked, some completely undeniable and other shockingly familiar, even if it was just someone that he knew from passing-by. He felt cold, the fur on his spine rising as a shiver passed through him, and he continued on his search silently.
After many minutes of searching, he found whom he was looking for, standing amidst the smoke and battle. He paused, watching, bemused, as she drew back her arm and launched her gun as far as the could, most likely leaving it to clatter to the ground, or hopefully hit some unfortunate Pure member in the head.
He drew in a sharp breath, that was mainly smoke and little air, his shock cut off momentarily as coughs racked his body. When he recovered, he padded up to her, hissing and snarling defiantly at her actions, until he was aware that she could not understand anything that he was saying. He quickly shifted back into his human form, pulling himself to his feet. "What are you doing, Bleddyn?!"
