George was lost for a moment, in a furry of movement and action. He had been expecting a drunk from the Leaky or a racoon wandering the alley. He wasn't expecting to be pounced upon, but the moment he was sheer panic. He flailed, already feeling warm blood where a claw had sunken into his chest. His first thought was about his wife and children just up the stairs, then to Verity who had quickly run up behind him.
"We have to keep them from getting upstairs." George gritted out in pain, his fist coming up to collide with the muzzle of the submissive wolf, just to send it back enough for his arm to have space to cast spells.