The shock of a false wolf.

Its a odd feeling, the warmth of your own blooding dripping down your hand, unnoticeable until you see it, the tightening in your chest, the wounds drowned in crimson, the shock numbs the pain so all that's left is fear, you wont bleed out you know this, and yet its hard to breath. why is it so hard to breath is it the blood, or is it realizing you can be harmed you can die,

No you were aware of that far too young you have accepted that, no this tightness in your chest the invisible weight crushing you, it is knowing you could have done more you could have spoken out you could have stopped this, and yet here you are blood dripping from your hand and forcing your lungs open to breathe.