Just as the werewolf lunged, Sarah had come in. She wanted to talk to the vampire she felt here. Either that or kill him. She wasn't sure which, as she wasn't positive if he was the good vampire everyone was talking about.
The moment the werewolf, however, lunged Sarah was there and caught him mid leap to toss him the other direction. She turned and looked at the girl. Half tempted to say, 'you again? Is it just me or do I always save your ass?' but at that instant, she heard the growl again.
"Protect him. Don't worry about me." She muttered to the girl. "I've seen worse." She stripped her jacket off and tossed it to the side, springloaded knives in plain sight. She moved in a circle, keeping the werewolf in her frontal sights and not allowing him behind her. After all, a werewolf behind her meant that she was a dead witch.
Now would've been a fine time to have Kristopher or Nikolas there. They could've kept pace with her and got her out of trouble. Damn them and their speed. She'd had that once too, but after returning to human, she didn't any longer. Step this way, the wolf went the other way and she followed.
When he lunged again, she darted up and slammed her fist into his stomach, sending him backwards again. And then she skirted backwards to avoid the slash of claws, that came right across her legs anyways. She winced at the feeling of the claws digging into her thigh muscles and bounced backwards a little further, sliding one hand behind her to tug the spinal length blade from its hidden place.
"Okay boyo, lets play a little. You've got your teeth, your claws, your speed, and strength. And I've got mine. Lets see how well we clash, boyo." And into the old Sarah she went, her face turned into an emotionless mask, that showed no sign of fear. All body signs shut down, and she darted forward to slash along his side, enough to get his attention. She knew a human was in there, that was the way of werewolves. So she didn't want to hurt him beyond recognition or repair for his human form's sake.
She skittered away again, narrowly missing a snap of his jaws. But a slam of his claws against her weapon hand sent the 'knife' flying out of her hands and then he pounced, he was on top of her. Oh sweet Macht. How ironic it was that some of her best friends were monsters, and now she was going to die at the hands of one. She felt a familiar brush through her mind, and showed nothing of what was happening, kept the panic to a minimum.