The dojo came equipped with a stretcher--a very basic piece of equipment, just a metal frame with canvas stretched around it and a pair of grips on each end.
Alec and Auriele picked Mary Jo up on it and carried her into the house.
A human would be down for a long time with a punctured lung.
With a few pounds of raw meat, Mary Jo's lung would probably be fine in a few hours, if not sooner.
The ribs would take longer, but she would be back to normal in a few days, a week at most.
No worries about infections or secondary infections while missing pieces of rib or lung regrow.
Henry hadn't moved from his place.
I noticed that he was getting looks from the rest of the pack.
And when they started to move back off the mats in preparation for the final battle, there was a space around Henry--and there hadn't been before.
As a couple of wolves swabbed up the mess, Paul retreated to his corner of the mat and Adam to his.
I kept my eye on Paul.
That nerve strike of Mary Jo's .
.
.
At first I thought he'd just shrugged it off; his walk to his end of the mats had been pretty steady.
But before Mary Jo's blood was completely cleaned off the mat, Paul shook his head slowly and raised a hand to rub at his ear, avoiding the spot where he'd been struck.
He blinked rapidly and seemed to be having trouble focusing.
Then Paul blew out a long, even breath and found his center.
His body stilled, and his breathing became deep and regular.
He stood like a statue, bare chest coated with a light sheen of sweat.
There was no fat on the man, and he looked like a cross between a Calvin Klein ad and an Army recruitment poster.
After the wet spots on the mats were perfunctorily dried, Darryl stepped back into the center.
"Paul, do you still want to continue with your challenge?" He looked at Henry.
"You hit Mary Jo?" Was he still a little off balance? I couldn't tell.
"It was an accident," Henry said.
"Mercy said .
.
." He looked at me.
"You know, something as fragile as you are should learn to keep your mouth shut, then other people wouldn't have to take the fall for you." "People with as much to lose as you have," I said, "should control their tempers better." As an insult it lacked .
.