Octane couldn't help the smile plastered on his face. It was... a mixed feeling, really. Octane was well accustomed to violence, but his body had never gotten a tolerance for pain. Too much respawning- his body never remembered the abuse he placed upon it, so the pain was always fresh. He was annoyed, in one way. Injuring and killing Octavio outside of the games was an honor belonging to Caustic and Caustic alone. It was Caustic, who always held him so tightly in his final moments, before he would white out and vanish into particles.
He was fucked up, huh?
Octane let a wheezing, wet cough leave him, watching it splatter blood across the jungle floor. "Sick..." He laughed, he had the audacity to laugh at his own pain and he was fucking dying. It was bound to happen soon, but oh, this was a boring way to die. Octane could feel his own pulse slowing, and it wasn't even fun. He imagined Caustic hanging over him now- as a human- the scientist's front and hands covered in his blood, digging fingers into exposed wounds and kissing his skin with that delicious scalpel of his.
Caustic wasn't here now. He wasn't here to watch him die. Maybe that was fitting. Octane grew up alone, and now he would die alone. Was he crying? Octane felt tears follow the lines of his face, and he licked away at them with his own tongue. Gross. He was gross. Brown eyes cast forward, locking onto the rabbit. "Ah, little coneja, I'm so sorry." The rabbit's head was craned back, throat ripped by that wolf once it was done with Octane. He had ate roughly half of it, and probably would have finished it then moved on to eating the cheetah.
Octane lifted his head, craning it to look over his shoulder, and down his form to evaluate his wounds.
Blood spurted from his neck at the movement, holes from the wolf's teeth tearing into him. This one didn't even have venom like Caustic, so he could feel all of it. Was that a bonus? The green of his Mohawk was dyed red with his own blood. The liquid had pooled underneath him and Octane was fairly certain his side was turned a muddy brown from blood drying in his fur.
Octane's eyes fluttered, taking in his injuries. It was mostly bites, as the wolf's primary weapon. His tattoo looked alright, just covered in blood. The beast had got him good too many times, Octane thought he could move around to flank the wolf, take it down and win, but it overpowered him with sheer strength and ripped him a new one. Octane could see the patch of fur ripped from his hips, where the beast had grabbed on and pulled. There were bites along his soft stomach and Octane wasn't sure if that was blood in his lungs or... something else. No, it was definitely blood. Oh fuck, he was going to die and no one was watching. He reached a paw out, grabbing the rabbit and pulling it towards him. He could see the small rise and fall of it's chest. Ah, it was still alive? "It's alright," Octane couldn't let it suffer. He pulled it close, shuddering. Octane could feel his lungs repair and the rabbit letting out a few shaking breaths before it demised. "Huh," he mused, letting his head fall into the puddle of blood under him and taking out another breathe.
May they would find him. Maybe they wouldn't. Hopefully someone would tell Caustic.

// Injuries: A patch of fur ripped from his left hip, bites along his belly, bite on the back of his neck, other bites scattered around his body.

Michael had ended up injured many a time in his life. Whether it be from his father's abuse, mistakes made while he was on the run with T, or just simple mistakes. In fact, he was only just now beginning to get over the latest round of punishment his small body had been forced to endure, in the form of torture from the Lost and then the dire wolf attack. The bandages around his legs and left eye had finally come off a couple of days ago, and Michael was beginning to feel like himself again, free to wear his jewelry without worrying about any of it snagging on his mummified form and tearing things away. It also helped that not having the bandages on anymore served to distance Michael somewhat from both incidents, not feeling particularly great about either one. He was far from regretting either – after all, he had committed himself to one for Trevor and the other for Roxie, two of the only people he had ever cared about – but he still found himself tensing occasionally when the scent of blood reached his nose, or when anything vaguely canine was close. After all, the dire wolf hadn't been seen since he and Roxie had their run in with it, but that didn't mean that it was dead. Michael, much like his sister figure, had hoped that their combined abuse of the monster – Roxie ripping into it with her teeth and him shooting it in the leg with his elementals – would've eventually led to its unpleasant demise when it tried to get away. Unfortunately for everyone, but especially unfortunately for Octane, that didn't seem to be the case.

The first thing that had alerted him to something being wrong was Roxie's roar. He had only heard the female's roar once before, and it had been a roar of rage while she had been dealing with the dire wolf, so it naturally set his body on edge. It took only a moment before he was stumbling forth from his home, bandages stuffed clumsily in his jaws as he jogged down the steps. He had gotten into the habit of keeping a roll within his home, just in case he ripped something, or for scenarios like this. The fugitive's short legs could only carry him towards the rainforest so fast, but he managed to get there before long, the soft clinking together of his various pieces of jewelry announcing his presence before he could truly be seen. His eyes widened considerably when he spotted Octane, his form shivering from the phantom pains that rolled over him when he spotted the other's wounds. The thick smell of the dire wolf in the air made Michael's heart clench unpleasantly, his instincts telling him to turn tail and bolt as far away from the scene as he could manage. However, he forced his cowardly side to silence itself, mainly thanks to the help of the presence of Roxanne already there. She provided him with a feeling of safety like Trevor did, even if she wasn't exactly in fighting condition.

Both of the first two present on the scene were hardly all that skilled with medicine, but of the two of them, Michael was fairly sure that Roxie was more experienced than he was. With this in mind, the bobcat stretched his neck out to carefully place the clean roll of bandages on a nearby low hanging branch, just so that the both of them had it easily accessible. With his mouth now free for speaking, he glanced worriedly over Octane's wounds, wondering just how long ago they had been inflicted. His eyes lingered on the corpse of the rabbit nearby to the thrillseeker before he spoke to Roxie, his ears flattening down against his skull, "Is there anythin' we can do? We... we might be able to take 'im back towards the main areas, with the both of us..." It was all he could really think of to do, considering taking Octane back towards places like the tavern would make it easier for someone with medical knowledge to see to him.

Octane felt too weak to move his own head- maybe he had lost too much blood already. Fuck, this wan't any fun. The fight had been exilerating! He had bobbed weaved around the wolf, flanked him and gave him a few good bites, sent metal legs into his gut and watched the beast keel over.
Too bad Octane was half its size and the wolf grabbed his neck and ripped him a new one. He squinted, his goggles off to the side and his white-toothed masked soaked in his own fluids. A creature with horns and wings stood over him now, and Octane lulled out and blood-stained grin. "God?" He laughed, his throat wheezing and Octane was sure he could feel his organs moving around.
More approaching, he closes his eyes. "Man... This sucks so hard. The laughter turns into a quiet grin. "I thought I had him, and then... crunch..."