ojandtostitos commented on samtaro's post in blueridgeschool:

Just laying there, Tatum tried to think of something else, anything except the pain and the weight of the wolf continuing to bear down on her. She figured it would be over soon, he could only play with his food for so long before he'd probably get bored, but she was genuinely shocked when the wolf went reeling away from her. It was so quick pulling away from her, like she had hurt it or shocked it or something, but she hadn't moved a muscle. She still felt like she couldn't. When the wolf turned and took off, howling and barreling back the way it came, Tatum didn't even know what to do.

Maybe she was already dead, and she was dreaming this or something. Why would it just leave her here? Well, it was leaving her for dead. There was that. The redhead still felt incredibly faint and sick and hurt so bad. With the world swimming in front of her vision, she formulated a plan through the haze of agony that was filling her brain. She was hurt, and she was hurt bad, and no one was coming. It was pretty late, it had been late when she left, and the chances of someone coming along in time were too slim.

She had to move, but she was almost positive she couldn't do it. Still with tears running down her face, most of her clothes soaked or splattered with blood, and gasping for air, she tried to test herself. From flat on her back, she very slowly tried to turn herself on her side, screaming again at the pain it caused her, ripping through her, from her shoulder and neck especially but going through her whole body. Her vision doubled, tripled, went vaguely fuzzy before returning to semi-normal. That hurt, really hurt, and it was going to be a long way to drag herself all of the way back toward the dorms. She didn't know how she was going to do it, but she knew she was going to die if she didn't try. The wolf could be fucking with her, he could come back any second and finish the job, especially if she kept shouting. She wouldn't make it till morning out here, there wasn't any question anymore. The smell of her own blood was thick and pungent, turning her stomach worse than it was.

Breathing deeply in an attempt to brace herself, Tatum shut her eyes tightly and made a bold move, turning herself further so that she now lay on her stomach. That hurt. She was torn up over her whole torso, she half couldn't believe that her guts weren't hanging out like a horror movie or something. Maybe they were. She was scared to look. She'd waste time if she started examining herself though, precious seconds, and she could imagine without looking how bad of shape she was in anyway. But she had to move. Feeling fainter than ever, with all of her pressure now on her badly bleeding upper body, she made another bold decision. Slowly, Tatum began to drag herself.

It wasn't easy, not on the asphalt, but if she could get to the other side of the parking lot, she'd hit grass. Then it'd be a little closer to school, too.

She didn't stand a chance of standing, so dragging it was, breathing heavily between whimpers as she ever so slowly began pulling herself along the ground, desperate to get inside. If she passed out before someone found her, she was done.