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The full moon was high in the sky by the time Tony padded his way into the woods. He always spent his nights transformed the same way. First, he sniffed around the house, then the yard and lakeside, then, finally, the woods. Constantly checking for intruders or interlopers.
He'd been out here with peace for years now, and he wasn't letting Them ruin it. Of course, moving out here meant leaving Pepper and Rhodey behind, but Pepper had a company to run, and Rhodey had the military to deal with, so it wasn't like he spent a ton of time with them before. He'd just have to content himself with weekend visits and video calls.
Barely a dozen yards into the woods, he caught the scent of blood and the smell of another shifter. A snarl unbiddenly left his maw, and he picked up pace, following the scent trail on the forest floor. It didn't smell familiar, which could mean it was even worse than Them showing up. It could be another shifter trying to encroach on his territory, killing the animals in the woods that he protected. It could be that They added another member to their pack, using them to scout, hoping since he wouldn't recognize their scent that he'd let them go.
Well, that wasn't happening. He was going to deal with this come hell or high water. He couldn't abide this.
The scent of blood continued all along the way, like this other shifter made a kill and was dragging it off. He pushed himself to his limit, trying to make sure he'd catch them before they left his territory, his brain racing a million miles an hour.
He understood this might be a trap. Maybe They hoped he'd smell the blood and the shifter and think there was an injured one out here, that he'd leap in to help them and then They could appear and fight him.
That was the risk of leaving Them the way he did and becoming a packless wolf.
But, They always forget, he'd always been the smartest of them all, even if he wasn't the strongest or most able. He could always think his way out of any trap they tried to spring on him, so he wasn't concerned.
It wasn't long before he came across the clearing near the edge of his territory. He skittered back and hid himself in some tall shrubbery when he saw a slumped wolf laying part-way across the open patch of grass.
He watched as the wolf didn't move, even with the small amount of noise he made, noise any other shifter would hear. He wasn't swayed, though. It could be some kind of trick by Them.
Or at least, that's what he thought until he saw how much blood the other wolf was covered in. He waited a bit more to see if anything else would appear, like maybe whatever attacked the other wolf, but nothing came.
He couldn't delay any longer or the shifter could die.
Sniffing and observing carefully as he padded closer to the seemingly unconscious shifter, he stepped out into the clearing and over to her. At least, it smelled like a her once he got closer.
As soon as he felt safe enough from attack, he got right up next to her, nosing at her side to turn her over and check her wounds. She was pretty badly off, and the best he could offer her now without opposable thumbs was wound cleaning and hoping she made it to morning.
He scruffed her and dragged her as gently as he could back through the woods to his home – it was easier to do it in his wolf form than try it as a human. Once he had her next to the porch steps, he carefully licked at her wounds, not really enjoying the coppery taste of her blood, but not wanting her to die on his watch. Then he waited vigil until morning.
As the sun peaked over the horizon, he felt the achy popping and cracking of his bones rearranging and settling back into his human form and watched as she changed too.
He didn't recognize her, but that didn't mean anything. He didn't know many other shifters besides Them.
Carefully, he lifted her up and moved her inside to his guest room, retrieving his first aid kit, returning, and tending to her wounds. Then, he settled down in the armchair in the corner to wait. A couple hours after he'd gotten her stitched and bandaged up, she finally woke.
Her eyelids fluttered, and she made a soft noise of confusion. Once her eyes opened, she caught sight of him, flinching back and almost falling out of bed.
"Whoa, whoa, chill out," he said, raising his hands. "I just got you fixed up; I don't need you killing yourself ripping all your stitches out."
She gave him a distrusting look, but he knew that she knew he was right. She had one hand clutched around her stomach where the worst of her injuries were.
"Who are you?" she asked warily.
"I'm Tony," he told her, followed by a long moment of silence. "This is where you tell me your name."
After another long pause, she finally spit out, "Nebula."