Stone Circle I know I cannot heal the hurt

He had found Arlette unknowingly, her small frame slumped across the banks of the river, only appearing to be staring deeply within it's depth. He hadn't seen her since the aftermath of the attack, only heard of her status from the whispers of the others.

Wounds. Scars.

Clearing his throat rather loudly, enough to alert her of his presence, the patriarch stepped down towards the bank with his head low. A smile gracing his lips that caused the edges of his muzzle and scar to crinkle. He had perhaps greyed more since she last saw him, whiter in the face and neck lower due to the aching of his bones. "Arlette, what are you doing, dear?"