John was a fighter, but he had his limits.

He was a great protector, but he got ahead of himself sometimes. It was only so late at night, when some wolf prowled by the edge of the cornstalk and into the chicken coop. Its jaws were hovering over a hen's neck as John caught it. He quickly lunged at the wolf, in which he was met with resistance. Teeth were bared and snapped, shoulders were slashed and the wolf had managed to get a good bite on his ear. John eventually scared the scrappy canid away, staggering with blood dripping off of his pelt.

He limped towards the main house, where you slept soundly. After hobbling up the steps and into your lonesome room, he licked your face and shifted back into his more humanoid form. " Ah, ye need to wake, ye ken? " John murmured, shaking you some more as he sat on the floor. His lower lip poked out in a small pout. " Im hurt an' ye nawt even gonna' wake.. " He whined in an almost dramatic fashion.