Snikt.
A few drops spilled out, but it healed back quickly. It took seconds.
Snikt.
A brief thrill of pain. And then it numbed. Healed.
Snikt.
He wondered what would happen if he stabbed his own heart. Would even that heal?
Snikt.
Pain. Lots of pain. Hard to…breathe. Blood spilling past his own hand buried in his own chest. Pouring. Gushing.
Snikt.
He retracted his hand. His breathing came a little easier. His vision a little sharper. Already he could stumble to a shaky stand. He felt his shirt through his matted blood. A hole through the fabric gave way to…no hole. No hole, but a smooth muscular chest. Seemingly untouched disregarding the few hairs he grew.
Snikt.
He screamed. He bared his claws. His claws…his own curved bones that formed at his own will out of his own knuckles…
Snikt.
He tore a chunk out of his leg.
Snikt.
Out of his arm.
Snikt.
His face.
Snikt.
Chest, other lrg, other arm, back, thighs…
Snikt. Snikt.
Panting heavily he stopped when a sound reached his sensitive ears. His healed ears. Turning he saw her.
"J-James?"
What a sight he must have been. Blood spilling like a river all over him from wounds already healing in front of her. His clothing, however, did not have healing powers and so remained in tatters around his rapidly healing feet. Rendering him completely bloody naked.
He attempted a smile, succeeding in making him look even madder. Blood poured from his gums. He seemed not to notice.
"Sorry darlin'. I…" He stopped. How could he explain himself?
"You mind bringing me some new clothes?"
"Oh…oh yes of course. Right away." Blushing she ran back to their cabin. When she returned she saw blood trails leading further into the Canadian forest.
"No." She muttered. "No. James!" She called out into the forests. But he was gone.