Jade Fern Grove Command me to be well

The smell of wolf's blood drew him. It drifted past his nose on a crosswind as he walked, and he turned toward it, compelled by a blend of instinct and curiosity. He found the source after about thirty minutes of tracking: a gray male laying on the ground. He was wounded, still bleeding. It appeared he was sleeping, or passed out. Rhett was not entirely sure. He chuffed as he stepped closer, sparing only a few feet between them. He said nothing, intense eyes focused for a response, though he remained on guard, taking his breaths through his nose to scan for scents, and swivelling an ear at any sound. Someone, or something had done this damage, and Rhett was not keen to be surprised should it still be around.