Almost crawling his way across the land, Cassius dragged his body slowly closer and closer to the Inferni borders. He was determined to get home. To tell someone what happened. His back ached and throbbed as the cuts and gashed bled more and more. His shirt was almost torn to shreds where the creamy monster had ravaged him. He never expected something like this to happen to him. He never expected an attack on him. Who would ever attack him? He was the only remotely benevolent coyote in Inferni, and with whoever he'd met, they all liked him. Whether it was for his "charm" or his rather unique skill set.
Tears pooled in his imperial eyes as the hybrid painfully pulled himself close to a river. His body finally collapsed on the waterside. He was so close to home, and yet it felt so damn far. His right arm was useless. He couldn't use it to help himself up. Cassius was practically stuck on the ground, unless one of his clan-mates found him. His arm had been nearly snapped in half, throbbing even though he did nothing with it. It hung limply at his side and it was just as useless as he was.
He figured he seemed to be a perfect target though. He was practically the only coyote without any fighting experience. His tiny knife hardly did anything against the blue eyed demon. He was outmuscled and outrun. Cassius had no chance then. He felt a new kind of respect for Kaena. He now knew the feeling of being so cruely violated. Stripped of pride and morale, having nothing left of himself. The demon gave him a fate truly worse than death, oh yes. Cassius certain would not, could not, forget it. It was forever branded in his memory for him to drag with him for the rest of his days.
Those blue eyes would haunt him for what seemed like an eternity. Every time he closed his eyes, those were all that stared back at him. He would never be able to get them out of his head. It was maddening to the coyote. Cass reached into the brook with his good hand and cupped some of the water in his palm. He tried to lift it up to his mouth, but then he started in a coughing fit, blood dripping slightly from his mouth. He couldn't lift his arms very high, which meant that his ribs were probably broken. He felt so useless. His now-torn shirt was basically dyed almost completely red on his backside. His hair was messy and dirty. His wounds still burned and flamed with pain. He felt like he wanted to die at this moment, just to stop the pain.
Slamming his fist into the ground, the southerner grunted to lift himself up. He needed to finish the journey back to the mansion. But as he tried to get his chest off the ground, a sharp pain rung throughout his body, causing him to cry out in pain. He slammed back on the ground as he let his body weight go. He needed some kind of medic now. He wasn't going to last long if he couldn't get himself healed up.