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What kind of an idiot...? Sentelle was dumbfounded that Merro had so little good sense as to walk straight through the guardian she had called to keep those unequipped to fight the werewolf safely out of its reach. To further prove her lack of common sense she stood in the doorway and stared the wolf right in the eyes. That girl needed a good talking to! Sentelle opened her mouth to yell at the girl, but her words were drowned out by the desperate, vicious snarls of the wolf's attack, and screams of pain on his victim's part.

Merro cleared the doorway just in time for Sentelle to witness Letalus deliver the killing blow. An ancient sword surely not intended to be bonded (for surely it must be if, as Merro said, it drew on her life-force) to an inexperienced swordsman, and wielded by a golem... Did Letalus not have sense enough to use his own weapon? To kill something that the bonded was not herself capable of slaying on her own was a recipe for trouble Sentelle was sure.

As she rushed to the side of the fallen mage she hollered to Letalus "Bring Merro here!" Healing spells always left the girl drained. If we can get her to expend some of that energy... Sentelle hoped that her guess was not to far off the mark.

Kneeling beside the mage Sentelle assessed the damage. There was not much time, and if Letalus was not quick about rounding up Merro she would have to see to the wounds herself. She shot a cross glance at the man across from her. "I should think you more likely to find damnation than any cleric."

Panic overrode whatever animal grace might have been granted her with the were-creature's essence, and so Merro simply pounded blindly down the street. The moonglow seemed to be in her eyes, casting a faint haze upon the blurry scenes in front of her as if the moon were brighter than it was. Her arms flailed at her sides, coming up sometimes to shield her face whenever she ricocheted off of a drunk or unwary townsperson.

Her breath came in gasping sobs and her eyes darted wildly about, searching for something, someone, she knew not what or whom. Most girls would have been desperately crying out for God's mercy or their mother's arms, or wishing with all their might simply to be safely home and abed. Merro had nonesuch piety or tender home feelings, and so she fell back upon her usual nebulous, nearly lifelong wish. She wanted to escape.

And as usual, escape was not to be found for such as she.

Tomlin smirked at the woman's remark. He could tell that she had some type of healing powers to her, though why she wasn't immediately using it to save the woman was beyond her.
"Very astute observation. I've noticed your about as useful as a spoon in a spaghetti eating contest right now," he mused, pulling some cloth out of a small sack attached to his back. "So if your not going to heal her, then perhaps you could give me some room? She need be comfortable until someone with any real power can help her." he said, then started to wipe off the blood from the woman's wounds, pulling another set of cloths out to press and tie against the open wounds on her arms.

Letalus was exceedingly grateful Leana had caught Merro before they got too far ahead. As he caught up with them, he mentally winced as Merro thrashed wildly. Obviously, slaying the werewolf with the blade had not been a good idea after all.

He knelt, nodding his gratitude to Leana and pulled the maddened noblewomen into his arms, holding her tightly to prevent her from hurting herself. "Merro," he said in her ear, monotone and soft. "It's alright. I'm here. It's Letalus." He glanced at Leana, momentarily wishing he didn't have an audience and closed his eyes, rocking Merro slightly in his effort to calm her.

Merro had been running blindly with her eyes wide open, and once tackled she screwed her eyes shut, kicking and clawing wildly like a kitten in a water barrel. She squirmed and wriggled, gasping and sobbing breathlessly, unable to break free. Leana kept her down effectively, but calming her down was another matter.

So long as there were arms and legs that fought against her attempts to escape, Merro fought right back in her fight-or-flight state of mind. The bright silver of the moon was in her eyes, the hot scent of blood filled her nostrils, and throughout her entire body was that overwhelming energy. She had to escape. She had to get somewhere safe. She had to hide.

And suddenly the mad catfight flurry she'd been engaged in ceased and she was pulled into a tight embrace. Strong arms wrapped about her, half-muffling her face into fabric over hard flesh, and a familiar voice was murmuring in her ear. She froze at the change, her scattered mind barely recognizing the words but finding the tone and tenor comforting compared to the jangling clamor in her own skull.

Her eyes darted back and forth although there was not much to see save out-of-focus fabric in the darkness, and her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps until suddenly she gave one small, whimpering cry. She burrowed her head down as far as she could into the sheltering darkness of Letalus' tunic, her hands fisted desperately into whatever fabric they could get at while the rest of her shook uncontrollably.

Feeling that things were calmed down enough, she sat down on the roof and looked up at the starry sky. As she sat there, she began to reflect back on her memories. How long had it been since she was in the presence of humans? It had truly been a long while since her old friends had already lived out their lives and passed on, leaving Nova to live a few lifetimes on her own. It would be the same no matter which human she befriended. Elves had already rejected her for being an abomination to the race, and the enchanted animals had too much respect for the Goddess's blood that flowed in her veins that they dared not cross her path. So humans were the only ones she really felt safe around, though only in her primal form of course.

She felt the sack on her side, the rabbits she had collecting were kicking and rummaging among the burlap, scratching the side of their confinement to attempt some sort of escape that was not in their power to obtain. Nova huffed as she shook the bag a tad, trying to loosen their confidence as she slinked her way down the building into a dark alleyway near her traveling party. Making sure the sack was tightened shut, she lowered her body into the shadows, going in the reverse process of her transformation. She had exerted enough energy that night to last her a few days. Her body took on the same darkly aura as her body shrunk down until she vanished into a heap of fabric.

As she hopped out of the pile of clothes that once clothed her, she began stuffing them into her hidden satchel she had placed near her foot before her transmutation. Having safely secured all that needed be, she situated the straps to lay loosely over and under her body. Though no one could see this, the bag shrunk as well. It became a sort of invisible belt around her fuzzy waist, the harness cloaked in a trimming of faux fur as to not lead suspicion to one's hand that felt compelled to pet her actual pelt. Confident that all was accounted for, she latched her mouth around the top of the burlap sack that contained the rabbits and drug it along as she made her way to her companions.

A muffled series of dooks emitted from her mouth as she neared Leana's foot, hopping a tad she she did.