Urfarah's Glory Be Damned, I'm Running!

You look again at the presumably human female, wielding her obviously supernatural brand. You think for a moment about bull-rushing her and attempting to throw her into her compatriots, but your legs freeze, and your mind finally catches up with the situation. These assailants just murdered your packmates with apparently no trouble. They're covered in blood, but even if it's their own, they were able to defeat three Uratha, one of whom had been in a position of power for over seven years. That considered, there really wasn't a choice to begin with.

You dash from the room to the sound of Kurt's last, mournful howl, and a sickeningly loud crunching noise.

The next hours pass in a haze. You finally find yourself in some random back alley, grasping your knees, breathing the fire from your lungs as your legs scream at you for their exertion. After your exhaustion finally catches up with you, you collapse onto the grime-covered earth, between a piles of cardboard boxes and other detritus and a slick, rain-covered brick wall. Sleep comes quickly, and without forewarning.

::Some Time Later::

You awaken to the pilfering hands of a curious beggar. Angered, you quickly thrust up your hand to his shirt and wrench him away from you. As slumber departs and your vision clears, you notice the grey, balding head in front of your face and the tattered rags hanging off of this specimen's frail body. For some reason, his pathetic nature reminds you of your betrayal.

For that reason, your primal instincts scream at you to **** him.

And yet, your reason and humanity sway you towards not only letting him live, but to help him, as he obviously is in need of food.