Wrath isn't strictly human anymore, and hasn't been in years. She's also not quite prepared for what's coming, and the war form of a werewolf is going to have an effect on almost anyone. Maybe all that helps her get moving is the instinct developed after fighting a lot of other very inhuman looking things. At least this isn't a dysthrope; there's not the smell that goes with it.

She starts to dodge after a humiliating split second of freezing up, but it's too slow. She still takes the hit and goes tumbling. She turns that into a roll, sinking the fingers of her artificial replacement arm into the floor to stop the skid and come up to a crouch.

Unfortunately, they're still in this nightmare. Maybe she should just take a full hit... no. That's never been her way of doing anything. She is almost certainly going to lose this fight, but she's going to take her licks honestly.

Wrath snarls and charges with all of the speed synthetic muscle fiber offers, launching herself up at the wolf-monster's face.