Bertie woke to the sound of someone crying out. He was in an unfamiliar bed, achy, naked, and there was someone curled around him who was most certainly not Ienzo. He'd never been that fuzzy. The memory of last evening, tied to the bed posts with Mika turning his whole body into jelly, strikes him not unlike a freight train. For a moment, the shame of it makes him wish there had been a train - really of any variety - involved in the after.

Here he lay now, presumably in the warou woman's bed and-

"No!" Mika's claws dug into chest where she was holding him, and she pressed herself into his back, her whole body trembling. He could hear her tail lashing against the bed, and somewhere on the floor, he heard her faithful hound, Zita, begin to keen in concern.

Screeching at the poor girl probably wouldn't do a great deal of good under the circs., though the thought did cross Bertie's mind to flail out of her grasp and leg it. Instead, he hissed for the pain, and gently maneuvered so that he could grasp her hand with his.

"Ms. Whitepaws," he said, craning his neck around to try to see her in the dark, "wake up, old thing."

In response, her sharp nails stabbed in deeper, drawing blood. Bertie gasped and bucked reflexively, which set the warou to screaming and thrashing. She released him, snarling in terror and shouting something thoroughly incoherent. He rolled over so that he could face her, eyes wide, as he watched the warou woman turn her claws on herself, raking them down her bare, scarred chest.

Even the impropriety of it couldn't overcome the fear that she'd do even worse damage to herself. Her eyes were open, but she seemed to still be in the throes of whatever nightmare had a stranglehold on her. Bertie reached over to try to grab her wrists, getting up onto his knees. "Ms. Whitepaws? Ms. White- Mika! Mika, it's Bertie! I'm here, just- Argh!"

The warou's teeth were worse than her claws as she jerked up and tore into the flesh of his arm. It was worse than anything Stiffy's dog, Bartholomew had ever managed, and more in line with what he'd expect of a rabid wolf. The taste of blood on her tongue seemed to snap the woman out of whatever fit she'd been having.

Mika stopped struggling, though her breath still came in ragged heaves through her nose as she kept herself latched onto his arm. She blinked several times to clear her tear-blurred vision and finally turned her half-wild gaze on Bertie. When he met her eyes with his own, she released him, going limp.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice hoarse. He saw her eyes flick to his arm, then away. Mika grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Satisfied that she was at least awake now, Bertie let go of her wrists and quickly laid back down, dragging the covers up over his chest and arm to hide the blood. It wouldn't do much for hiding it when she had to change the sheets, but out of sight, out of mind for the moment. He did have one good arm, at least, and he reached out to her, lacing his fingers with one of her slack hands to offer some comfort.

"No need for apologies, old girl. I daresay I've snapped at the frightfully rude person or two to wake me from a dream without bothering to ask for permission." He tried to make light, but he could see that her eyes deadened, in the dark. Bertie shifted closer, letting go of her hand and tentatively moving to wrap her in a one-armed embraced. Propriety be damned after what they'd done.

His movements were halting at first, but he grew more confident when she didn't pull away. It did worry him intensely, it was as though the life had oozed out of her. He heard Mika's dog whining again and glanced over the woman to see Zita licking Mika's hand where it lay hanging off the bed.

"Mika?" he said, voice soft again. He didn't know what to say. She was putting up no resistance now, but that was almost worse. Well, best try anything that came to mind. "Mika, old thing, it's fine. I'm not hurt." He was, but it would be fine in a few minutes. Probably. "Not properly, anyway. What was that all about? Come now, my dear Whitepaws, what's happened?"

"A nightmare," she replied, voice still shaky. The warou still didn't look at him. When that seemed to be all that was forthcoming, Bertie tried the next best option he could think of: a kiss.

It was, perhaps, not his best work, but blood tended to put a fellow off, especially when it was his own. She did respond to it, though, eyes blinking wide in confusion. When he broke away, she was staring at him like he was insane.

"Er..."

"I just bit you."

"You were doing rather a lot worse last night, I fancy. It's really no matter - magical healing and all that rot."

"Bertie, I didn't mean to hurt you, not this time, I-"

He silenced her with another kiss, this time feeling bolder as he stroked his hand down her back. It was just something for comfort, he insisted to himself, and indeed, she seemed to relax ever-so-slightly. Would petting her ears work better?

"It's all right, Mika. I've certainly had worse than a bite before." He chanced the ears, moving his hand upward instead of down. She stiffened, then relaxed again. Zita barked, then hopped up on the bed, stepping over and on top of them, trying to insinuate herself to lick Mika's face.

Bertie moved away to make room for the hound in gentlemanly fashion. Mika and Zita both whined in unison.

"Don't stop, please." Her tall ears flicked back and down, and he heard her tail begin to swish behind her.

"This is a bit harder with three," Bertie grumbled good-naturedly, trying to find a place to situate himself to pet the warou woman, but Zita had claimed the pillow next to her head and seemed unwilling to move.

Mika huffed in what he thought might be a laugh. "You have no idea, Bertie."

As he was shifting, he found her legs tangling with his and then he was getting pulled in close again, Zita's stomach becoming his pillow. The hound barked, but didn't have much else to say about the arrangement.

"Mika, I think I might have a bit of trouble explaining this to Ienzo," he said at length, once he'd taken to stroking her ears again. He scoffed. "I suppose I'll have to tell him it was a nightmare."

Mika took her turn to kiss him this time, her long tongue moving into his mouth this time and leaving him breathless afterward. "It turned out all right, though," she said, and though she still looked close to tears and her limbs still trembled ever so slightly, he hoped she was right.