Ravensblood Forest sweep up in the apothecary for a hot meal and some neosenephrin
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#1

The smell of sea-salt was something he could not identify with clarity, but it was there, settled like a veil between the trees when he awoke. It was sharper than the pervasive pine scent; the lucious spruce, making everything seem just a little bit alien to someone who had never encountered the ocean before. It was a long ways off, but the onset of some thin cloud-cover had brought a taste of it along.

Screech wasn't sure where he was upon waking but it was sequestered somewhere among the trees, in a hastily made dug-out filled with his body heat. Something had been applied to the right side of his face. He knew because he felt a tugging at the hairs there, dry and irritating, although the swelling had likely abated. He was lucky to not have a much worse fate than this - whatever this was.

With a grunt he rolled to his belly and unfurled from the tight twist he'd somehow put his body into; exhaustion had abated, but he was still nervous and  utterly lost. The boy had forgotten about Constantine and the strange woman, @Durnehviir who had found him. Sleep ensnared his senses for now and he was groggy, staring out of his small haven at the misty morning just as a light rain began to fall.
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#2
Despite being the daughter of a medic, Durnehviir had never felt the pull to follow in her mother's pawsteps. Although like Paarthurnax in so many ways, she simply did not wish to hone her skills in the way of herbs and care-taking. Throughout nearly her whole life, her main focus had been on fending for herself nevermind others, as was the way of life for a loner. Viinturuth had taught her a thing or two about very basic first aid, but she was far from confident when it came to dealing with actual casualties - especially one as marred as the yearling who'd somehow ended up across her home's borders.

Still, she tended him the best she knew how, though it troubled her that he slept so much. She supposed it made sense, considering his massive blood loss and spent energy, but he seemed to rouse only briefly and didn't seem aware of... well, anything. Durnehviir felt resonsible for him, in a sense, considering she'd pleaded with Constantine to help him, and so was rarely far from him.

Resting nearby when the wounded youth's groaning and writhing caused her ears to prick, Durnehviir went to him at once. She whined softly upon her approach to his little hollow and lingered at its entrance, alerting him to her presence. "Hey you," Durnehviir said softly as she poked her muzzle gingerly inside, eager to catch a glimpse of her ward's features. 
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
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#3

One of his large ears twitched as he sat there, listening to the tinkling of the rain. He rested his head on his forelimbs until something came to the hollow's entrance; upon noticing the shadow caused by the blocking of light, he lifted his head and turned his good side towards the stranger.

A flash of variegated red met his eye, and he vaguely recalled the woman and her shadow. They hadn't eaten him and didn't seem keen on that - so he had that going for him. 

He was quiet for a long minute and then murmured, where am I?
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#4
He did not respond to her greeting at once, but Durnehviir waited in patient silence. She hovered at the burrow's entrance, ginger ears high atop her lovely crown when a small voice finally piped up from within. "Ravensblood Forest," the wolfess answered the wounded boy's question simply, then ducked her head to try and get a better look at him. An amber eye blinked back at her.

Durnehviir twitched her nose, curious. "We found you here, in a rather sorry state. What happened?"
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
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Sorry its short!

Raven's Blood.
It was brand new to him, but fitting. The name made his skin crawl a little. He tried not to think of his mother.

Her question though, that made him sigh. A small puff of air turned in to a whisp of cloud and dissipated from his nose. Big guy found me and tried to eat me, he explained this with ease, because it wasn't entirely a lie. It had happened. It just wasn't why he was in such an awful state. 
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His answer was vague and although she understood his reluctance to provide more detail, it irritated her all the same. She'd sacrificed her time to watch over him, a stranger in her home, yet he seemed reluctant to let her help. With a twitch of her nose, the russet Frostfur frowned softly as she quietly considered the boy's statement.

"Why?" Durnehviir decided to press, her pale gaze questioning. Despite his obvious wounds, the yearling appeared to be of good body condition. She very much doubted that someone simply saw fit to try and kill a fit, able young wolf to simply eat his flesh. 
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She was right in her thinking, of course. But it wasn't the way he worked. Screech wasn't eager to divulge such personal details such as how he lost his eye or, how he lost his family, and the wounds were still so fresh to him. He could tell that his answer wasn't enough to satiate the woman yet at the same time he didn't much care; it was none of her business. Telling her might make her pity him and Screech was doing enough of that for himself - he didn't need any more pity in this lifetime. 

Thinking she wasn't going to let the topic rest (maybe it was the look in her eye), Screech rolled his shoulders in a shrug and answered in his gravel-gargling baritone, I'unno, and after shifting his weight a little in an attempt to ease the tension he felt (rather, the tension he was creating) he added, I'm just a nobody. He found me, waited a bit to see if I'd... If I'd die, and then... I guess he got bored. Why did anyone do anything? Might've been really hungry or somethin'. Was bigger than me too. If the smoke-faced man had really wanted to tear him apart, nothing would have stopped him.
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The battered yearling provided more information this time, but there were so many gaps and she feared that bombarding him with a hundred questions would wear him out. She furrowed her brow, wondering why a wolf would simply 'wait for him to die', and came to realise that perhaps he'd been injured prior to winding up in Ravensblood territory.

Durnehviir frowned thoughtfully, but did not press the matter. He clearly didn't wish to discuss it and although she wished only to help him and provide a sympathetic ear, she supposed it was better to give him space. So she mustered a warm smile for him then, and offered an introduction: "my name is Durnehviir. What are we to call you?"
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
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Her name was such a foreign object to his ears that he almost asked her to repeat it, and opened his mouth. But then he reconsidered; maybe he wouldn't last long enough to learn anyones names. He thought next about what sort of answer to give her, wanting very much to state that he was Titmouse Redhawk and from Redhawk Caldera, but that would lead to more questions most definitely — especially if these coastal wolves had ever ventured inland. He did not wish to draw more attention to himself than necessary. It would be best to come up with a whole new name entirely and start over, but Screech couldn't do that — much as he wished his life was different, he couldn't lie to these people. They were being kind to him. Caring for him so that he didn't die out there.

Screech, he finally answered, having not missed a beat between opening his mouth and speaking. His thoughts proliferated quickly and then his mind was blank, his worries stored within his aching heart instead. My name is Screech.
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#10
Finish up with your next post?

Screech. His name was Screech.

She remained quiet as her soft eyes lingered on his marred features. Exhaustion weighed on him clearly, and not surprisingly. He'd been through a lot, it seemed, and she was sure that the last thing he needed was her pestering him. This was not the end of her questioning, however, for she would save her enquiries for when he was feeling better.

"Well," she chirped, and canted a tall ear, "you must be famished. I'll fetch something for you." Durnehviir ducked her head and backed out of the boy's hollow, not waiting for a response before she turned away and made for the nearest cache. From the frozen earth she plucked the carcass of a small hare, and promptly delivered it before departing to allow him privacy to feed.
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He did not feel bad about his lack of manners or conversation, not after everything. When the oddly-named woman turned to leave, he watched the back of her head and then sank in to a puddle of himself. She would be back with food - and he would eat, show gratitude, and eventually drift off to sleep.