Jade Fern Grove as the world comes to an end i'll be here to hold your hand

Her foreleg she held close, placed back in it's socket but by no means cured. Her fur was a warzone of scabs and cuts and bruises, she held of grooming it vigourusly for fear of opening on if the scabs accidently. Her concussion left her with a throbbing headache at times, but she had come to her senses and felt much better in the skull-splitting headache region. She had been skulking about for most of her time here, in great debt and gratitude to the pack here yet not physically fit enough to do anything more then be a lump of fur. 

She hobbled toward a willow, a rather large one, and draped herself via a series of awkward movements over it's base. Little time had passed before another came into her vision, mask marking him instantly as Sriracha. She smiled, lifting her head and muttering an awkward. "Hey" to draw attention to herself.