The careful eyes of the warden danced over the remnants of sage. Not wholly addressing them, but noting their presence as well as the plucked stems now naked and bent. Scavenging along their borders, but away from the scented markers that they were not wholly trespassing into the mountain haven. Again, the Creek wolves have proven their boldness. But again, the Vale had proven its strength in retaliation. The wound that marred the scarred skin of her lead would serve as a badge in protecting his domain.
With permission granted, she approached the warrior with care. Both ears remained pressed as her muzzle tipped upward to brush gently beneath his chin in appeasement, then purposefully let it rise to touch the wound upon his cheek. The black of her nostrils came away wet; the wound was still fresh but not fatal in its bleeding. Whining softly, she lapped the blood from his cheek and just beneath his vacant eye to a good measure of cleanliness. The sting of sage clung to his maw from the intruder’s bite, but it was quick to fall away once the scent of the Vale overpowered its aroma.
Once clean, for kind measure, she nudged her nose against his cheek then placed a swift kiss upon the corner of a whiskered jowl to sooth him. The mention of the sage and his Lham drew her ears forward, then just as quickly they returned sidelong to their bed. “Of course,” there was no question in her acceptance, only the diligence to follow and bring her shadow under ease again. Smoothly she lowered her muzzle to the cluster of sage at his paws then nosed them into a pile. “Allow me.” Strong jaws fixed around the bundle with care, firm in that no leaf would fall, yet delicate so as not to bruise the flora any more than what the scuffle had done. Yet before she took a step in departure, she turned towards her lead. Her brows creased expectantly, hoping he would not loiter along the borders and follow. |