OOc: @Blue Willow |Takes place before the NSV event. Heading along the river, south towards the Ridge.

She was certainly not a happy female, walking away from the outskirts of a failed hunt. It was quite a blow to her pride, but more so to her physically, having misjudged her surroundings in her eagerness to pursue fresh meat.

She had done so with the hope of returning a trophy to the den. Something, anything that might earn favor with her denmate and the pack. But alas the rise of the season was not in her favor, increasing her natural musk to notable proportions that even a wallow in mud and earth could not douse. In the end, it only served to make her dirty, and quite foolish in her attempts to fall a young fawn. The warrior turned hunter had followed the trail for hours, moving along the banks of the river, bypassing the plateau in closing pursuit. It had been alone, a young one lost from its herd and perhaps left for dead. Easy enough for her large bulk to take on her own… but agile and as it was proven, tricky.

When the prey was cornered in the thick of the woods, her confidence got the better of her… til the wind shifted through the trees. The fawn was quick, and in her closing bound, she met not tender flesh but the prickled surface of a thorn bush. Nose, muzzle, brows, even her chest was pricked and skewered. It was a horrid mess; the don of failure in a tangible form.

From there, she relinquished her hunt and traveled back down the river. A limp to her step and a wavering pattern as she walked with but one amber eye open to lead her way. The other was tightly closed due to the thorns that punctured and clung to her brow.

How her shadow was about to view the world with one eye was beyond her, for even in the short instance she as impaired, she had a horrid time navigating. Either she tread too close to the waters and threatened to slip, or she veered too far and nearly run into the neighboring woodlands. Finesse was needed, but the tan wolf was too grouchy from her failed excursion to even consider a more dexterous progression. If he could have seen her then, undoubtedly he would have been embarrassed.

Yet another disadvantage to her impairment came forth when the shape of another resided just outside her field of vision. Visually tensing as she halted, she turned abruptly to the feminine voice. Her lips immediately curled back at the startle, as the whole of her bristled and hunkered down protectively. How on earth did Raheerah manage without being able to see…?

“Hm?” she grunted as her good eye rested sharply on a female, dark in color but like in voice not unlike the maternal grace of Velox. It was by this tone that the female gradually allowed herself to relax as she stood though remained quite apprehensive given her apparent vulnerable state. “No… I am…” she grumbled softly as her brows furrowed eliciting a sharp wave of pain just above her eye. “I am fine. I need direction to the mountain is all…”

The Plateau. Indeed, they were an inescapable lot. But then such was the case when she was nearest to their borders. Though even outside their range, she came across their ilk, but it was in a more pleasant setting than what she endured now. The dark female was kind to offer her name yet the Vale wolf did not initial return the gesture. As a creature in pain, she was far more agitated than she knew herself to be, forfeiting all manner of courtesy for the principal of not appearing weak. It was an embarrassment, truly, to be caught while injured.

Stubbornly she kept herself quiet even as the woman offered her aid once more. Rather than consider it openly, she kept what sight she had locked onto the female in a scrutinizing gaze. Her brows further creased in thought, forcing a prickled edge deeper into the crevice between eye and snout. She stifled a wince and best as she was able, though it did not withhold the sharp breath of pain. Her lip quivered slightly. “What is it that you can do?”

However dire the need to remove the thorns from her eye, Xi’nuata was not fond of the idea of any other than her lead being close to her face. A nudge by a muzzle was a considerably different instance, whereas the gesture was instigated in trust and would only last for a brief moment of the glance. But this… what the female intended, was far longer than what she considered comfortable. Though the alternative of facing blindness was not to her liking either.

Lowly, the warrior mumbled to herself with tail flicking in thought as she pondered what was best. A guided walk to her own borders might have done her better (at least for her pride), however she had seen what harm came from leaving damage untreated for a duration. Still her lip quivered, dislodging a small thorn from the flesh. Ignoring its sting she settled instead for a gradual sit, folding her haunches beneath her heavy frame as her head lowered to rest between her shoulders. A defensive posture, but an awkward accommodating one none the less.

“Just the eye…”

Despite not wanting to be, Xi’nuata assumed the role of an ideal patient; quiet, steady, and even if on the surface, somewhat at ease. By the time Blue Willow relayed her intentions, she was already under the assumption that this mending would turn into an ordeal of sorts. The methods of healing wolves were always a wonder to her, but from what she had witnessed, they all required some time to their ministrations. Sighing softly, the Vale wolf resigned herself to this fact and simply sat still, awaiting its start.

Both eyes were closed as the waters of the river were brought to wash over her eye. One might have mistaken the gesture as one of trust, but the sharp ears set on a swivel betrayed such an assumption. She was quite alert even if the healer’s methods did not warrant this level of scrutiny. It was not often another would willing assist without some kind of ulterior motive in the work.

“It was due to my own negligence,” the woman huffed in regards to her injury. Had she not taken her prey lightly, she would not have been in this embarrassing predicament. “There is no need for apology.”

The warrior remained quite still with her eyes tightly closed, only daring to let her brows twitch under each cold splash of the water. Admittedly the cold aided in easing the sting of the thorns a bit, but in the same instance they smarted as the downward pressure dislodged a few and moved others out of the way. Though none embedded themselves deeper into the tissue. For that, she was grateful.

When at last it came time to remove the small thorns, the red of her ridge stiffened as her shoulders bunched anxiously; her dread for the following step returning with full force. Yet she kept herself still, holding a strong, steady face even as the felt the breath of the other near her eye. Her lips shook upon reflex, but her jaws remained tight. Her control, the muzzle to keep her teeth sheathed. Softly, she breathed and let her mind slip to more pleasant thoughts than the present. The sooner this was done, the sooner she could return to the den. And perhaps on the way she could bring something back for her companion. If not the fawn as she had intended, then perhaps a plump vole. Something they might share…

By the time the last thorn was pulled she had eased, at least to allow her shoulders to relax. The anxiety remained as was portrayed by an awkwardly twitching tail- more twisting than swaying til it was tucked under a shuffling rump. She was still for the final rinse and felt only the release of cool water running over the unobstructed wounds. It was feeling better, that much was certain, yet the healing was not completely at its end.

By a thread, she maintained her patience, again slipping into a more comfortable state of mind as the healer applied her remedy. The aloe stung at first as it seeped into the flesh of the wound, then gradually numbed allowing some movement by a flutter of a heavy lid. She blinked a few careful times to adjust to the strange weight until the lid was partially opened. It was not fully revealed, but enough that she could see through her umber eye from around a faint haze. She hoped it would ease away with time.

“There is a fog,” she commented. “But I can see… thank you.” Sheepishly, she tipped her muzzle in gratitude. Already, the mountain wolf pushed herself to stand and would have started forward had it not been for the slight stumble in her step. Indeed she could see, but the fog of the remedy kept her eye from the clarity of the other. Grunting stubbornly to herself, the female looked anywhere but to Blue Willow, not wishing to endure yet another pitying glance. It was enough she sat through the healing with a stranger. But her offer to guide her was becoming more of an ideal option.

Xi’nuata grumbled softly in surrender, “If you’d like… you can walk me to the mountains. From there, I can call for my companion…” Her hunt for a small meal would have to wait for the next day.

OOc:
The sooner they began on their way, the sooner she could return to the side of her companion, and perhaps rest before the days of duty claimed her once more. Accepting the woman’s presence, the Vale wolf began forward and walked the careful path towards the mountain. Occasionally she would turn to look at Blue Willow with her good, visible eye, then would look elsewhere with a few blinks to make sure her other orb was usable. Indeed it had been the medicine that caused the fog, for as they walked, it eventually faded away leaving a light haze but still a clearer view than before.

“Thank you,” she offered genially. Her pace quickened at the width of the mountain came into view, and quite relieved she raised her muzzle in howl to call forth her companion to greet her. In little time at all he appeared as a shadow upon the mountain, a wraith in movement as he descended its face to meet his comrade at the snow dusted earth. Immediately his eyes went to the dark female in company, yet Xi’nuata was quick to assure him that all was well, giving him a light nibble on the cheek to ease his concern. Sated, he turned, but not without a final glance at the unknown wolf then let his singular eye fall on his companion.

Once more, the she-wolf bid her gratitude and a soft ‘woof’ or farewell, before following the guide of the mountain behemoth towards home.