The fucking wolf — and she saw the clothes, she knows it's an Interloper, it's the only thing that's saved the cur from Peacemaker's vengeance — does the exact opposite of what she says, moving away from Edward only to corner Kate there in the pew, snarling, teeth and mouth red and wet and those teeth had been in Edward's body, tearing at his flesh and in a small, calm corner of her mind she thinks maybe she really will kill it anyway, Interloper or not.
But Edward's still moving, even if it's clear he's shocked and in pain, his blood smearing bright against the wooden floor. When she meets his eyes, they're huge with terror and agony — she can see the whites all around his dark irises — but he nods to her and his voice is somehow in her head in a way it never has been before, shattered and babbling. It's impossible to pick out any one phrase or cohesive sentence, but two things are immediately clear: relief at seeing her and fear for Kate. He gives her a quick nod, as firm as she thinks he can probably make it in his current condition, and she gives him a tiny jerk of her head in response before sweeping by him, Peacemaker leveling out in her hand—
And then Kate cries out, and for the first time since crashing out of the saloon, Wynonna's step hitches. "Tim?"
She turns to the wolf, with its wet and slavering mouth and spindly legs and raised hackles and... waving tail. Bemused fury rises, flickering in her jaw and flattening her eyes as she makes for him. "Tim!"
Of course it's Tim. So what do we do now, chief? he asks in her memory, a gold-glinting charcoal-colored string taut between them and she doesn't put Peacemaker away, but when she lunges its to sink the fingers of her left hand hard into the scruff of his stupid neck and now she's the one snarling, teeth bared. "I said get back!"
For a second, she considers shifting, herself, the wolf in her head and chest howling, blunt claws scratching at the lining of her gut, but the bear is there, too, huge and hulking and stronger than she'd ever managed to be on her own, and she takes that strength and puts every ounce of it into hauling Tim-the-wolf up and back, dragging him from his spot in front of Kate and unceremoniously half-shoving, half-flinging him back down the aisle, as bodily as she's able. "What the hell is wrong with you? That's Kate!"
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But Edward's still moving, even if it's clear he's shocked and in pain, his blood smearing bright against the wooden floor. When she meets his eyes, they're huge with terror and agony — she can see the whites all around his dark irises — but he nods to her and his voice is somehow in her head in a way it never has been before, shattered and babbling. It's impossible to pick out any one phrase or cohesive sentence, but two things are immediately clear: relief at seeing her and fear for Kate. He gives her a quick nod, as firm as she thinks he can probably make it in his current condition, and she gives him a tiny jerk of her head in response before sweeping by him, Peacemaker leveling out in her hand—
And then Kate cries out, and for the first time since crashing out of the saloon, Wynonna's step hitches. "Tim?"
She turns to the wolf, with its wet and slavering mouth and spindly legs and raised hackles and... waving tail. Bemused fury rises, flickering in her jaw and flattening her eyes as she makes for him. "Tim!"
Of course it's Tim. So what do we do now, chief? he asks in her memory, a gold-glinting charcoal-colored string taut between them and she doesn't put Peacemaker away, but when she lunges its to sink the fingers of her left hand hard into the scruff of his stupid neck and now she's the one snarling, teeth bared. "I said get back!"
For a second, she considers shifting, herself, the wolf in her head and chest howling, blunt claws scratching at the lining of her gut, but the bear is there, too, huge and hulking and stronger than she'd ever managed to be on her own, and she takes that strength and puts every ounce of it into hauling Tim-the-wolf up and back, dragging him from his spot in front of Kate and unceremoniously half-shoving, half-flinging him back down the aisle, as bodily as she's able. "What the hell is wrong with you? That's Kate!"