A noticeable shiver ran up Alex’s back at the woman’s words. There it was again, that sinking feeling of recognition, and it scared her. [I] Just what the hell is she?[/I] she thought, looking down at Mr. T. with a blank gaze. She just couldn’t put a name to it but she knew she had heard of something like her before, a creature that leaves death in its wake. 
[I]No that couldn’t be it…[/I]
Suddenly the shifter turns her attention back to Mr. T. and his ripped form. In seconds she was kneeling beside the pile of leftover fluff and stuffing, setting the poor bear down gently in her lap. She seemed to have his scattered pieces but she needed a way to piece him back together. Alex pondered for a second before remembering the bag on her hip; maybe some of her personal first-aid kit was still there. If it was then she’d have needle and thread.
In a sudden frenzy she reached for the bag, digging through it and shockingly finding what she was looking for. “So he takes my weapons but leaves me the first aid stuff…. Ok…” she mutters with a chuckle.
Taking the needle and thread in hand she diligently starts sewing the poor bear back together, starting with his ripped fur.