The distance is a relief, and when Ozymandias finally slows them down, Waver's heartbeat slows too. He still looks on high alert, ears up and tail rigid, fangs longer than they should have been, but his eyes are clear. Just faintly... haunted.

He shakes his head.

"No." Not really. A few bruises, one already forming around his pale throat where the cloak had dragged and pulled across it, but no real damage. He cut it before it could actually bruise deeper, too, so he's perfectly all right physically. Shaken, but not injured.

"But..."

Waver looks down guiltily at Ozymandias's wrist. His fingers curl into loose fists as if to hide his claws.

"Sorry."