Height: 31 inches
Weight: 145 pounds

Oh how she ached. Even in her sleep, if it could be called that, she ached. She could feel her wounds as she dozed, too tired and just uncaring enough to rearrange herself in her den -that same little indentation in the ground she'd been using since winter- when she first felt rocks and twigs digging into open wounds. They might get infected but she knew plants, she could handle it. After the battle with that thing, she'd barely been able to drag herself back to the little ground depression she call home after shaking off the mother and pups. She probably look like she had collapsed, falling over on her side and legs almost sprawled, not having the energy to curl up properly as she normally would have. Her new necklace was nestled against her other four, her reward for taking on the monster along with the name of the Warrior. She liked that. Jagger the Warrior. It had a nice ring to it. Plus, if she continued to rise through the ranks, it would go along nicely with such titles as those. Think about t. Dissident Warrior Jagger. Or even Jagger the Warrior Renegade.

Her breath sawed in and out of sore lungs -gods, even her lungs hurt- as she lingered on that side of being fully awake. If she made a conscious thought, she'd be back into the world of the hey-lets-make-Jag's-life-hell! and she really didn't want to be in that world right now. Hell, ever her spikes hurt. She had been almost fully recovered from her last quest, which she had completed about a week and a half, two weeks ago. But last night had torn some of the healing wounds back open, renewing their pain. She let her mind go blank, just breathing. Her being was wrapped in pain, like she was a vessel, pain replacing all her bones and organs. She had gotten used to it, feeling at ease with it. She truly was a sick thing, taking even any form of comfort in her wounds.

The blood had dried and matted the fur around her gashes and cuts and things, Jagger not bothering to wash it off last night. All she cared about was making it back to her indentation before collapsing or blacking out. Still, her breaths were like she was sleeping, no fluttering eyelids. Just a lump of matted fur and blood and bits of flesh -hers that the monster tore off or its' she didn't know or particularly care. She knew she'd have to get up soon to hunt, but all she wanted to do was sleep till the next spring. Besides, she didn't have to hunt. She was fine with scavenging.