The wolf is happy to give chase. It's really a shame, because the the only answer is to run, but then the animal inside finds fleeing prey exhilarating. He runs after her, pouncing and rolling with her as claws sink into her skin at her shoulder, at her side and sliding into her waist through the cotton material of her clothing.
The scent of blood is strong. Nostrils flare and the wolf rolls away off of her in a flurry of dark fur and sharp, blood soaked claws, lowering down on his haunches and slowly creeping back toward her.