Tigerlily and the Hermit 03

Tigerlily fights a mountain lion and is rescued. What does the Hermit want?

Any constructive comment is welcome

Tigerlily and the Hermit 03

Tigerlily stiffened, began to draw her sword, and was tackled by a scrawny mountain lion. The claws raked her leg as the jaws reached for her throat. Twisting her small yet powerful body she used all her strength to throw the great cat off her and against a tree. She rolled to her feet yelling "Run! Get back to town!"

She sensed more than heard the mother and son run past her towards Hill Rock. The blood rushing through her adrenalized body roared in her ears. She drew her sword fully as the tawny feline, slightly dazed, regained her feet. The surprise of the initial attack gone, Tigerlily's instinct told her she was searching for food other than just herself. She had cubs to support.

The cat leaped, but the Catgirl's fight or flight was solely fixed on fight. She had been attacked and the creature had not run away after its loss of advantage. The sword, held steady, pierced the chest. Turned sideways the blade ripped into the beautiful hide, and obviously landed squarely in its lung. Blood rushed from between the great cat's lips, and it staggered. It was not finished, but instead of running it pulled free of the blade and swung its left paw in a wide arc. The claws wrenched the blade from even Tigerlily's tight grip, she backed up as the mountain lion readied another leap.

With her own powerful legs ready to spring into action she waited for the fearsome predator to attack. Yet as the beast was belly to the ground it whimpered and dropped fully to the dark dirt road. She died unable to provide for her children. Tigerlily, once being a cat understood immensely and fell to the ground bleeding from her wounds.
*
The Catgirl waked; she realized she was no longer on the roadway. She was naked and homemade bandages covered in blood bound the claw strikes. Having the instincts of a cat she was not normally prudish, yet the man who sat upon a stool by the small table in the tiny hovel was staring at her. She wished for a blanket. The blood on the bandages had dried. The wounds must have clotted, she should be safe now. She sat up, became dizzy and lay back down.

"Who are you? Where am I? Are you the hermit?" Her speech was slightly slurred. Her body needed to recuperate, and yet her mind reeled at the comment of the villages about a villain who lived on the outskirts. Did she need to leave as soon as possible? "Where are my clothes?"

The hermit nodded to his charge. "I am Valon. The children throw stones at me, and the parents say hateful things. I will not harm you. Your clothes are soaking in water. I will be back."

With that statement the middle-aged man, tall for a Human, stood and left via the only door to the neat and tidy cabin. He bent his head as he exited, and she was alone. She looked about for her clothes and could not see them. Was she a prisoner? A wool blanket was on the stool. The blondish man had been sitting on it, his comfort over her humility. She knew she could not stand without falling. She would have to wait for his return.

She waited.

A while later he reappeared with two large kittens under his arms. He set them down and they explored everywhere in the simple dwelling. She had seen it was clean, and the dirt floor was scraped flat. She asked for the blanket. Grudgingly he gave it to her. He stood after that.