Both Robin and his men were quite adept at using the forest as an escape. Much to their pursuers dismay, the Sherwood outlaws could all but disappear into woods. But Robin couldn't rely on that luxury. He needed to stay in sight, he needed his pursuer to follow. There was no well worn path back to his camp coming from his direction, so Robin was bounding over thick undergrowth.
He was of two minds, one keeping him moving towards camp and the other figuring out just what to do when he got there. He had procured some rope, but he dared not get close enough to simply wrap it around her. He cursed himself silently for not having gotten around to setting up traps like there were around the outlaw camp back in England. He needed a way to get close to her without risking a bite or worse.
Hoisting himself over a thick, fallen tree Robin glanced back over his shoulder to gauge the distance between himself and the plagued wolf-woman.