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

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?"