[Theron]

THERON
THERE'S A COLD BREEZE BLOWING OVER MY SOUL

blood/light gore tw!! This is open, but it'd be nice if a healer joined. Though anybody could probably help/i wouldn't mind to NPC a healer if that made sense. I ain't picky.
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The wind rustled the leaves of Inaria’s infamous purple trees. An obvious precursor to an approaching rain-shower. He did not mind that. Rain did not trouble him at all. The scent of it hung on the pregnant air. Though someone nearby would also smell the sharp metallic tang of blood.

Theron gave a low self-directed grumble of pain as he staggered forward. His large paws thudding in heavy footfalls as he stalked forward. The hunt had gone poorly. The source of the blood scent was obvious at a glance - it discolored his thick muddy brown fur around a deep gouge in his chest. It cut across his broad chest though its severity was difficult to judge without close inspection due to the thickness of his pelt. It bled a lot, the surrounding fur stained a deeper, darker rusty brown. Despite this, he plodded forward. Graceless but steady.

He gave a low self-directed rumbling growl as he sat heavily in the lee of some large moss-covered rocks. He leaned one broad shoulder against them - he’d rest a minute here. Theron remained silent, bending his head and nosing his wound as best he could, then giving a disgruntled snort. Ordinarily he was remarkably self-sufficient, yet the wound was in such a position across his chest that there was no way he could reach it himself. He had already put a kink in his neck trying. Not that he was any sort of herbalist or doctor. The wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. He was feeling woozy now.  

Theron needed help. That was something the recluse was slow to realize much less admit - even to himself. Yet here he was. Emerging from his haunt in the graveyard to find someone willing to help him dress the wound. Theron could be fine without it, but it was bad enough he had no wish to risk it. The youth was strange, but he didn’t have a death wish. Someone would help him, right? He was as much a part of the pack as anyone else. All that... community bullshit they prattled on about. That’s what Haven kept saying. Moons too. Though he had seen neither of the older females in some time. When? He couldn’t remember. It was like thinking through mud.

He blinked blearily at the trail he’d left behind him. Dark spots of blood splattered in the grass. Soon to wash away in the rain. His head felt thick, heavy… 

[.Birch.]

 

                                ------------------------------------------

Life had taken such a dreadful turn for the small chocolate dire.

Where his days would usually consist of sneaking out to his garden, trying to stop himself from being pulled into Felixes and Trilliums troublemaking antics, and avoiding conversations with others in general now just drowned in silence. Home was no longer a safe haven filled with laughter and tales of the days events, instead, it had become a haunted place. No one had even smiled for days and everyone actively avoided one another. Birch couldn't really understand what was happening with his once close knit family but ever since the events in the healers garden thier ties seemed to have shattered. Leaving the timid yearling alone in a world he didn't feel safe in. 

So he had been spending most of his time in his small healers garden, a hobby he had picked up from his father, locking himself away in the last place that held a small resemblance of safety. He gently tended to his herbs pulling up weeds that threatened to steal nourishment and cleaning away the dying leaves from stems that would then be replaced with healthier growths. The most exciting task he had prepared where the numerous holes he had carved out for his new additions. He was able to gather some buds from the healers garden, with permission, to add into his private garden. He had asked a million questions about the properties of each herb and it's effects to which his teacher answered patiently before making his decision. He was careful to grab each one with his mouth, not wanting to damage the plants, before placing them in their respective places. 

By the time he had finished the sky had darkened and the scent of rain carried on the wind. A sigh escaped his lips as he knew that he would have to go home but finding that it was the last place he wanted to be but Sitka would come looking for him if he took too long and he didn't want to worry his father. So, with some reluctance, the dire began his trek back to the family den.

However a strange scent caught his attention.

It was out of place but the scent of the coming shower dampened its smell. Curious, and looking for a reason to not go home, the lad followed the scent keeping his head high so his nose wouldn't loose the trail. This way of walking proved hazardous when he almost tripped over a half exposed tree root but the wood wasn't what held his attention...it was what was on the bare bark that made his heart speed up and mind stop. 

Blood.

Alot of blood.

Golden orbs followed the trail until he couldn't see it anymore. Numbly he followed the deep crimson splotches through the woods. If any of his family had discovered what he was doing they would surely give him an earful but that didn't worry him right now. Whoever this blood belonged to was in trouble. How far had they gotten and what condition where they in, more than that, why hadn't they called for help? Where they unable to or did they just not know how bad it was to be loosing this much blood? As the questions flitted through his mind he had picked up his pace into a run. The sound thunder echoing through the gray mass above pushed the dire to go faster. If the rain washed away the trail then the person who had bled out would be in serious trouble.

Coming through some trees the youths eyes barely managed to catch the figure leaning against a tree. He stilled for a moment, breathing heavily, before mustering up what little courage he had to approach the stranger. As he drew nearer the dire could hear the other gasping and saw that he was looking down. Curious, and unable to stop himself, Birch also turned his gaze to the strangers feet. He gasped at the blood slowly collecting into a small puddle between their paws. Running to the strangers front the dires golden eyes frantically scanned for the injury, not that it was hard to find, his eyes widened upon seeing the gash on their chest. Looking around the young healer spotted some vines growing around a nearby tree. He bit into the flexible plant and gnawed it until it snapped off. He gathered some nearby foilage, mind working madly to determine if it was a safe plant to use, praise the heavens that it was or else the stranger would be in even more danger. "I need you t-to lay d-down and hold still," he said almost making it through the whole sentence without stuttering but old habits were hard to stop, "how long ago w-were you hurt?" He didn't bother with small talk. Every second counted now and he didn't know how many of those seconds the scarred stranger spent on getting this far.

[Theron]

THERON
THERE'S A COLD BREEZE BLOWING OVER MY SOUL

[[OOC: I'm gonna go ahead and post but if anyone else would like to join feel free.]]
--
Theron did not look up until the other wolf’s gasp cut the air. Then moved in one sudden snap, muscles going rigid as he reflexively, instinctively dropped his head to guard his throat and his ears pinned back. His muzzle wrinkling into a snarl as he turned slightly, front paws planting firmly while his back legs pivoted the rest of his body to face the stranger more directly. In this state, it took him a moment to remember where he was - that he didn’t have to treat a stranger like an enemy in Inaria. He’d come here for help. His eerie white eyes fixated on the other lighter brown wolf, the aggression falling off his features although his stare still stayed wary - remaining silent as the young healer gathered some vegetation nearby.  

Theron did not trust as readily as most Inarians. He didn’t really expect aggression from the younger wolf and was hardly worried that the smaller male could actually hurt him even in this state. All the same, he had not stayed alive this long by not being wary of others.

“I need you t-to lay d-down hold still, how long ago w-were you hurt?”

It took Theron a moment to find his voice. Somewhat breathless. It rasped harshly, like an ill-used rusted thing. “Twenty... twenty minutes...maybe?” There was uncertainty to it. He was in a bit of a fog. His head was heavy. That figure could be fairly inaccurate. The boy, as he drew closer and Theron focused he realized he really was little more than a boy. His brow furrowed skeptically. He was not someone who minced words. He lacked the capacity really. Rather than deliberate it the big dire mix gave a loud snort, and brusquely asked; “Do you... know what you’re doing, kid?”

He supposed beggars could not be choosers, so he did as the younger male asked. There was no better option.  Lowering himself to the ground and shifting over. Worry gnawed at his gut. The younger wolf looked... very worried, maybe this was worse than he thought. He could not get a good look at the wound himself because of its position.

He would hold still, although his demeanor was neither warm nor grateful. His eerie white eyes staring at the young healer with all the emotional vulnerability of a dead fish. Vacant eyed - partially because he had lost a fair amount of blood, partially because that was just in his nature.

[.Birch.]

 

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The young dire did his best not to jump when the stranger faced him body tensed and face screaming with intimidation. If their stance and broad figure didn't provoke a heartattack then a glance at those long fangs and sharp teeth would have definitely did the job. A small squeak of startled fright escaped him. Birch didn't have a single bone of aggression in his body, due to his sheltered upbringing and gentle nature, so he was quick to show submission by tucking his tail and lowering himself to the ground. He was a healer and caretaker not a warrior. Not that the larger wolf seemed to be in any condition to put up much of a fight but Birch had no desire to test him. He approached the injured male cautiously, not wanting to be seen as a possible threat, setting the supplies close by as he examined the wound.

 “Twenty... twenty minutes...maybe?” 

The small dire looked up from the strangers chest to look at his face; twenty minutes?! He had been bleeding out for twenty minutes and didn't even try to call a healer or guard for help?! Glancing back to the incision the chocolate dire decided to start preparing to tend the wound. Firstly the bleeding would have to be stopped. Sadly the apprentice had no furs or cloth to use to absorb the blood but the foilage he had managed to gather would be a good substitute until he was able to walk to his garden. There was no other option for Birch, nor the wounded male, to try and reach the healers den would be suicide; the wound needed mending and the small dire could not support his weight to traverse the long distance. Birches garden was closer, a minute or so away, and had supplies that he had gotten from his teacher to practice with in his free time. Namely bandages and a sturdy thread used to mend large wounds. Like the one currently carved out into the strangers broad chest. As he assessed the injury the dire was completely oblivious to the judgemental glare he was receiving from the injured party. What was not missed was their snort that Birch had heard many times from the few yearlings that bullied him for being the way he was, soft and weak, causing him to turn his eyes upwards once again to see the unimpressed look that they were currently sporting. 

“Do you... know what you’re doing, kid?”

His ears fell back as he lowered his gaze back to the bleeding gash. Yes he was young but his teacher had praised him on his knowledge that he had managed to gather on his own and taught him how to tend to injuries such as this but it never failed to hurt him when others judged him openly even though many others supported him. To him the negative comments sliced deeper than what positive reinforcement could mend. However he didn't let the blow deter him from giving aid and the brute seemed to have understood his situation as they slowly lowered themselves onto the ground. The apprentice grabbed the soft foilage and carefully placed it over the wound, "I a-apologize but this i-is going to h-hurt," he would wait for their reply before grabbing the vine and cutting it in half. Taking great care not to cause the stranger any unnecessary discomfort until the time came to tie them across his shoulders, "I'm going t-to have to t-tie them very tightly," he warned as he looked the other in the face, not deterred from making eye contact, "are y-you ready?"

The yearling would wait and allow the massive wolf to prepare himself before pulling one set of the vines taut and tying them. He paused and let the wolf regain themself, or bark at him to continue, "one m-more and then you can r-rest for a while," he encouraged as he quickly tied off the final set of vines. All that could be done now was wait but Birch busied himself with gathering materials to use as a makeshift shelter. The threat of rain was rapidly approaching and the water would hinder the patients ability to heal. He managed to find sturdy looking branches and hauled them over to the tree where the large wolf was resting, digging the ends into the ground and wedging the tips into the trunks rough bark, once satisfied with the structure he started to gather leaves from thickets and bushes to cover the branches. The end result was a makeshift tent. Hopefully the falling rain wouldn't do much damage; time would tell as droplets began to fall on him as he sat just at the opening of the shelter. "H-how are you feeling," he asked peeking over towards the outstretched male, "any drops falling through?" He'd have to  go out and gather more materials if so.

[Montay]

A storm was rolling in, Montay could feel it in his bones. Joints were stiff and his nose ran thin mucus which he kept trying to snort back in. Occasionally he would have to rub his snout on his wrist, which was annoying as it happened often. It was hard to walk anywhere like that! He figured he'd have to head in for the night as he'd hear an earful if he was stuck in the rain and got sick. It was easy. Montay already had some symptoms of a cold, so why make it worse?

Although his nasal passages was stuffed, the pungent smell of blood bled through to his senses. The boy almost reeled back in complete surprise, unsure of what to really think of the situation. Curiosity of course got the better of him, he followed to the best of his ability until he came across a trail of it. It was obvious to tell it was someone within the pack, the foot prints were wolf. There was an odd feeling that came to him as if he was getting slightly dizzy, but he pushed himself forward, following until ears perked to the sound of voices. Well, one at least. Asking (presumably) another if they were ready.

Ready for what? Death? Because boy, that was a lot of blood trailing along. Montay decided to digress and head forward instead to check ou the situation. A boy around his age seemed to be attending to the older male, obviously injured as a huge gash ran up his chest. The smell was... oof, strong. Montay cautiously approached the two, wondering what the hell happened.

"Buon dolore, that's some cut you got there. Could almost see through you." he joked, a lopsided smile rising on his features, though wasn't sure how that would be taken. Montay would of course stay out of Birch's way, though he seemed to have handled the situation already, asking how the male was feeling. "Like a hole in his chest, I'm sure." Painful, really. "What happened, big guy?"

I'm sure it's a good story.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[Theron]

THERON
THERE'S A COLD BREEZE BLOWING OVER MY SOUL

Theron’s demeanor certainly shifted when the smaller dire cowered. Tail tucked and his body held low to the ground. The gesture did its work. That was probably the best thing the young dire could have done. Assurances wouldn’t have worked, Theron was a bit too feral for such a thing. The two of them barely spoke the same language - he’d learned a different tongue than Inaria taught. His “mothers”, if one would even call them such, had led him to think might makes right. That there was no distaste in violence. Usefulness was the only virtue. He’d been in Inaria sometime now, but self-isolation made for a poor teacher for such core beliefs. All the same, his aggression vanished -- nullified by the submissive body language of the other wolf.

He dimly recognized the healer’s shock and dismay at the time that had passed. Though again the massive dire mix was completely impassive. Though it was difficult to tell if it was out of apathy or the dizzy, foggy feeling anemia had given him. He held still while he examined him. He also dimly recognized the sorrow his question caused as the youth’s ears pinned back. Though recognizing it didn’t really provoke any further response past acknowledging that he had upset the young healer. Empathy had been scraped out of him at a young age and he had been left nearly empty. Apologizing did not so much as occur to him. His eyes closed. He was tired, suddenly.

"I a-apologize but this i-is going to h-hurt, I'm going t-to have to t-tie them very tightly, are y-you ready?”

Theron’s white eyes opened to regard him blearily. Then, after a awkwardly long delay, as if it took Theron some time to realize the other wanted a response he lifted his head enough to give a mute nod. As the other pulled the vines taut, pain shot along his body and Theron would grit his teeth. Lips lifting in a savage grimace - giving a throaty growl that was nearly a groan. Despite the pain, Theron recovered quickly. He was tenacious to an absurd degree.

"Buon dolore, that's some cut you got there. Could almost see through you."

He looked up when another approached, another yearling, all legs. Theron met the joke with a slow, almost confused blink that gave the impression he had never heard one before. No other greeting to the black and tan youth but a bleary stare. He kept a slight distance. A wise decision, whether or not he realized it. There was an awkward, silent delay before Theron realized that the healer was waiting on his cue to continue. He didn’t understand why.

“Go.” It was a harsh single word demand. Colored with irritation and pain. He had no wish to drag this out. Birch pulled the second set of vines taut and Theron’s claws dug into the dirt. His muzzle wrinkling in a intimidating snarl. The impulse to lash out violently reared, but he squashed it. Breathing a long ragged breath in, then out before he calmed.

“Like a hole in his chest, I'm sure. What happened, big guy?" The second youth asked.

“Boar... gored me.” He rasped. Question = Reply. Theron was no conversationalist. He lacked the charisma to tell much of a story. That statement was plenty explanation in his mind. He let his head fall back to the dirt, only dimly aware of the raindrops that fell sporadically. That was nice in a fashion. He liked the rain. His white eyes watched the second yearling - impassive and unblinking while the healer gathered branches and set up a makeshift lean-to around him.

"H-how are you feeling, any drops falling through?"

Something strange flickered over his features a moment. Confusion, perhaps, or something close to it. Warmth was unfamiliar and he was a cold thing, be it by nature or nurture. Not quite as badly so as it was when he arrived in Inaria. It took the huge brown dire mix a moment to pick his words. He was a mix of caught off guard, socially incompetent, and foggy with blood loss.

“Fine.” He said, though that could hardly be the truth. There was a strange pause before he added hesitantly, unsure. “...thank you?” His voice lifted like it was a question.

[.Birch.]

 

                                ------------------------------------------

"Buon dolore, that's some cut you got there. Could almost see through you."

The apprentices head whipped around to the origin of the call and was met by the sight of a large black and tan figure of a wolf slowly approaching the makeshift shelter. At first the yearling was on edge of their sudden appearance; he did not know the reason for them being here or why they would risk being caught in this storm. Then the brown dire remembered that he was actually in the same, metephorical, boat as the new arrival. It was just happenstance that he was able to provide first aid to the large brown wolf currently gasping loudly behind him. The Inarian frowned sadly as he observed the suffering etched into his patients features. He wished that he could ease their pain or that he was able to provide the same care that the older healers could have offered but he did not have access to their experience or stocks of pain relievers and thus was only able to offer comfort and sympathy as the male battled through his agony. Soon though, the dire hoped, he'd be able to patch him up thoroughly when the rain eased up.

That, however, seemed to be a long wait still.

Returning his focus onto the more verbal wolf the dire didn't think that a serious injury was anything to joke about. Then again Birch wasn't really knowledgeable of what humor really consisted of seeing as he spent most of his time avoiding his packmates. It seemed today was a time for him to branch out even though he really wasn't comfortable with being drawn into long conversations. Hopefully this would turn out to be just a quick meet and greet or perhaps they would turn out to be a quiet type as well; he could only hope.

"Like a hole in his chest, I'm sure. What happened, big guy?" 

Birch flinched at the others attempt at humor. He wasn't sure if they were making fun of the larger males injury or trying to be friendly. 

“Boar... gored me.” 

The brown yearling blinked in suprise when he heard the darker males voice answer the strangers question. Firstly; he had never heard of someone trying to take down a beast like that on their own. Secondly; although he had heard him grunt 'go' when tying the vines around his torso the sound of their voice hadn't been heard clearly over the sounds of the swelling storm. He noted that he sounded deep albeit a bit raspy. As if he hadn't had a drink of water in days and honestly Birch wouldn't have been surprised if that had actually been the case. It took the dire a second to realize that the others silver eyes were focused on him as he had been lost in thought. They seemed to be struggling to form the right words to communicate something. Were they hurting or was there something else that was causing him discomfort? Needless to say what the brutish male said took him slightly off guard but in a good way.

“Fine...thank you?”

Birch smiled kindly and nodded, "just l-let me know if y-you start feeling odd a-alright," he then looked out of the mouth of the shelter and into the surrounding woods before braving to step out into the rain turning to the new arrival before stuttering out his offer, "y-you can r-rest inside t-too if you w-want just t-try not to b-bother h-him p-please he needs r-rest," he tried making his request sound polite as he could, not wanting to offend the other or come across as harsh, but social interactions weren't his strong suit. He then began looking around for something that could be used as a container to hold the falling rain, that begun to cascade down more fiercely, in hopes that he could offer the wounded wolf a good drink of water. Birch didn't know how long he had been searching but by the time he returned he was drenched and cold holding a piece of curved bark in his mouth which he laid just outside of the opening. "S-So why are y-you out in t-this storm," he asked the newcomer, seeking shelter from the rains onslaught just inside the entrance, figuring he should at least try to be curtious. He just didn't know how to go about holding conversations.The timid healer would wait and hear what the black and tan stranger had to say all the while keeping an eye on the 'bowl' outside. When he felt it was full enough he would excuse himself before carefully picking it up and placing it infront of the injured males face, "H-Here in case y-you get thirsty."

[Montay]

The rain came down now, Montay glancing up toward the darkened sky with annoyance. Now he was really going to get an earful, but oh well. At least he had a story to tag along with it, one that was true. The boy sniffed again then came a little closer to at least shelter from the wetness. He wouldn't get in Birch's way, he knew better than that. And Theron seemed uncomfortable with the company already.

"A boar? Uomo, everyone knows you aren't supposed to hunt those alone." he exclaimed, surprised. The wild pigs up in the hills were mean and their tusks were deadly. Montay hoped this man learned his lesson, there was easier prey to be had than those large monstrous beasts. At least he hoped next time he'd bring a party of people. The boy actually wondered what they tasted like.

Birch was thanked for his service of patching the wound as best as he could, Montay watching and scoffed a little. "Yes, that's usually the correct answer." he mumbled, mainly to himself. A healer's job wasn't easy, after all. Patching the wounded and sick, occasionally getting thanked. The boy shook his head though, then shrugged. "Don't worry, I won't bother him." he offered as Birch strode back out into the rain to retrieve something to catch water in. "No point pickin' at someone who's down." Montay did joke, but it was for the expensive of lightening a situation. Tough crowd these two were.

"I was headin' home when I found the blood trail. Followed it and here I am. I figure you did the same?" The trail was easy to follow, the smell of it was strong as it was fresh. Montay wasn't the first to notice, at least the first was a healer. The boy was hardly any help, if there was fighting involved they would've been shit out of luck. He sniffed again before making an introductory, watching as Birch placed the water near Theron. "I'm Montay by the way, what about you guys? I'm guessing you're a healer. You remind me a lot of my sister, in fact. Maybe you know her? She's also a healer. Leonara?"

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[Theron]

THERON
THERE'S A COLD BREEZE BLOWING OVER MY SOUL

"A boar? Uomo, everyone knows you aren't supposed to hunt those alone.”

Theron shifted to prop his head up on one bulky paw. He could keep an eye on the both a bit better at that angle. He actually looked somewhat chagrined at the younger wolf’s words. His ears pinning back a bit.

“Was... a young one.” He mumbled as he curled up a bit, his eyes opening and closing in a sluggish blink. “Still st...stupid.”

He had nothing to say to most the conversation, Theron just watched the other two. First staring at Birch until he left to gather water - then at Montay. Both the kindness of the former and the latter’s sarcasm being met with nothing more than a furrowed brow. His pale eyes glassy and staring, unsettlingly intent, more than a bit off-putting.

"H-Here in case y-you get thirsty."

When Birch offered the water Theron regarded it, slightly puzzled, blankly. He did not realize it was his rasping tone that provoked the gesture. Theron’s voice just sounded as if he’d been gargling gravel even at the best of times. This was the most conversation he’d had in days. He lapped at the water absently regardless. That felt like quite the effort. The two others shuffled around. Conversing genially. Theron’s ears flicked, showing he was listening though he remained silent. His white eyes closed again.

"I'm Montay by the way, what about you guys? I'm guessing you're a healer. You remind me a lot of my sister, in fact. Maybe you know her? She's also a healer. Leonara?"

Theron lay still. His eyes fluttering open. He seemed to miss the fact the younger wolf was asking his name as well at first. 

There was an awkward delay before he spoke up again, his voice a low rumble, “Uhm...Theron.”

Survival instinct told him he needed to stay awake. He knew that much. Theron shook his head, lifting it as he tried to latch onto the conversation to stay conscious. "What.... what do you do, kid? Likely as not, the diminutive would likely be taken rudely. Though that was lost on the brutish dire mix. It would be easy to blame his social fumbling on the dizzy sensation that gripped him now. However, he wouldn’t be much better even in perfect health. He stared vacantly at Montay while waiting for an answer.

[.Birch.]

 

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"I was headin' home when I found the blood trail. Followed it and here I am. I figure you did the same?" 

A nod of his head was the automatic response to the newcomers question before realizing that such a reply might be rude he quickly answered, "Y-yes, luckily I-I was close by a-and he wasn't injured w-worse t-than he is," he was still curious about why he hadn't called for help when he had received the injury but Birch wasn't one to point out others short comings nor dwell on them. Surely the injured male was suffering the consequenses of his actions now; which the dire pitied. He couldn't imagine bearing that sort of pain. Poor guy. The sound of sniffing brought him back to the conversation that he had accidentally tuned out. Hopefully he didn't miss anything important.

 "I'm Montay by the way, what about you guys? I'm guessing you're a healer. You remind me a lot of my sister, in fact. Maybe you know her? She's also a healer. Leonara?"

The yearling thought back to the handful of healers he had met but the name did not ring of any familiarity for the apprentice. Thinking on it now though he had heard Angel often speak of another student he had taken under his wing but Birch had not seen them around when having lessons so was never introduced to them but he was sure that their name started with an 'L'. "Y-yes I am in training still s-sorry I haven't seen y-your s-sister but my t-teacher often t-talks about another student s-so maybe that's her," he asked uncertainly.  "O-Oh I'm Birch," he added swiftly , "n-nice to meet you."


 “Uhm...Theron. What.... what do you do, kid?"

The healers attention, once again, fell upon the injured wolf. They had not moved from their position, thankfully, but his head was now raised and looking towards the pair at the entrance of the shelter. The dire was also curious if Montay had a rank that he was aiming for or maybe he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life; it was a big decision to make afterall. The subject of ranks caused Birch to think about his siblings and the ranks they had decided to take. They seemed to be happy with their choices, as was he, but since the falling out the shy youth had not spoken with them recently.

 His golden gaze drifted outside watching the rain fall rhythmically to the forest floor. Were they going to be like this from now on? Constantly avoiding each other and never reconciling for the things that happened...it couldn't possibly stay like this...right? The soft hearted healer couldn't bear for that to become his reality. With a quick shake of his head the dire rid himself of his dark thoughts and looked back towards Theron, "h-how are you f-feeling any dizziness or feeling l-lightheaded?" With all the blood loss he couldn't imagine that the darker male was fairing too well but now that his wound had been, temporarily, bandaged he could regain some strength for the journey towards the dires garden. All Theron could do until then was rest and all Birch could do was watch over him.

[Montay]

These guys were definitely not any type of social creature, not like Montay was since he was holding most of the conversation afloat. Birch introduced himself and confirmed that he did not know of his sister, at least not by name. Perhaps by word of mouth, but not everyone in the pack knew each other. Just the important ones it seemed. The boy gave a shrug then motioned his head to Theron who also introduced himself. Theron was an interesting name.

Then of course the conversation shifted to him. Montay internally sighed. "Bene, quello si è rivoltato contro di me no?" he muttered under his breath, but gasped dramatically to signal he was going to answer the question. "I'm just a normal ol' citizen in Inaria. I haven't really decided what to do just yet. I actually am limited..." he said, a little discouraged. He gave a shrug to seem casual about it, but Montay was a little disheartened by the fact he couldn't be a protector or do hard work like you were supposed to. He looked up greatly to his mother, an Elite Guard.

It was never meant to be, it seemed.

Birch went on to ask how the old fellow was doing. The guy seemed to be alright for now, at least it was nothing life threatening. Montay wasn't sure though, he couldn't speak for a healer as he wasn't one. Head turned to view out of the small shelter to watch the rain fall in dribbles. Then he realized the question never fell to Theron, or at least he never answered. "So, what do you do, Theron?" It was a fair question to make as both Montay and Birch gave their answer, but the boy was also genuinely curious.

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sorry for the late reply lol

[Theron]

THERON
THERE'S A COLD BREEZE BLOWING OVER MY SOUL

Theron listened to the pair talk in silence for a moment. An awkward silent presence that sat and stared, obviously listening but having nothing to offer to the conversation. What did he know of healing and sisters? Nothing. He had no siblings, no living ones anyway, and his knowledge of healing was... instinctual at best.

Theron blinked in confusion as Montay muttered in another language he did not understand. His brow knitted together, obvious curiosity on his features. Though when the young wolf switch languages he seemed to forget it for the moment.

“I'm just a normal ol' citizen in Inaria. I haven't really decided what to do just yet. I actually am limited..."

That answer didn't surprise him. It seemed a lot of Inarians just sat around on their asses all day. Enjoying the protections of a pack with none of the labor. After all, that was pretty much what he did. The last sentence was slightly more surprising, but he was distracted as Birch spoke up again.

“H-how are you f-feeling? Any dizziness or feeling l-lightheaded?"

“Yeah...” Theron ran a pink tongue over his gray nose - pausing before continuing. “...tired.”

That was an understatement. . Theron was hardly the sort to lie around belaboring his condition. Such a thing would have been met with swift reprimand in his youth. A sharp word at best. One did not display their weakness. It was tantamount to showing them your throat. Of course, such thinking made him a terrible patient, but he was not thinking like that. He wasn’t going to die to a fucking pig. He’d suffered worse and lived.

"So, what do you do, Theron?"

Theron shifted, his hackles bristling somewhat uncomfortably as the question was turned on him. He didn’t know how to answer that. He could have answered that question once, but he imagined the Inarians would not like what he had to say.  Either way, that time was over. What the hell did he do now? Anything he wanted really. Well - not anything but close to it. He skulked around the graveyard. He enjoyed plentiful game and kept to himself. Ordinarily he wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be this talkative. Yet circumstance demanded his presence and there was nothing to do at the moment but talk. It’d keep him conscious. The delay was long as he picked words.

“Fight pigs.”It was said without inflection. The awkward answer could have been either a vague half-hearted attempt at humor, bitter self-depreciation, or the mechanical straight forward answer of a creature who took things far too literally. It was difficult to tell.