Irritation reached deep into the hole that had only now begun to weave its way back together. It itched, oh how it had bothered her not to scratch it. Deep into her muscle the stinging sensation went. If being wounded at all were hell, what did that make the painful experience of healing? Never mind the constant itch of stitching flesh, the tingling that lanced up from her once pristine toes. She snarled down, the half mask of black on her face wrinkling with the gesture at the deep brown scabs that now encased the flesh all the way to the bone, making the paw a virtually dead thing. It felt unnaturally heavy, though she had grown accustomed to the way it felt each time she struck the ground. As if she had lain on the paw for far too long and it no longer had any blood flow. This was not the case, as she had tested the warmth of her paw, and though it had risen a few degrees while the scab formed, it had never dropped as it would have if the circulation was bad. No, this tingling was attributed to the dying nerves within the limb.

Soon these injuries would be nothing but scars, but first the cashmere monster had to get through the agony that was healing. Hopefully, the wolf she fought - Kane - was so much worse than she was right now. He had been a worthy challenge, a good stretch for her rusted skills of combat. Truly, she could have killed him so much easier than having to fight. But, she had needed this, needed to know her skills are in fact perishable. She lingered between the rocks, wondering why they felt sharp on three of her paws, but not the one. She looked down at the paw, musing that it looked as though she had gotten it stuck in some predator's mouth, mangled, one toe forever crooked. She hated the black beast that had hurt her so, and within the deep recesses of her mind, she promised herself she would come back and win that crown. Patience and practice would have to be the tools for such a quest, and currently she was without both.