Wisp was hyperfocusing again, but this time it was a moving target. Her eyes tracked every flutter of the butterfly's wings as it bobbed and weaved over the flowers on the slope near the den, every muscle in her body taut as she slowly followed it with robotic steps. She never let it get even an inch further from her than it already was as she traced the intricacies of its wings with her gaze. An orange pattern on a black backdrop, with a pair of black spots on orange whorls near the body. The hindwing had an orange pattern suspiciously like crab's claws, though Wisp didn't know what those were (or what a hindwing was, or what bug she was looking at, or whether it was safe or not).

Her eyes were fixed on the three white spots at the tip of the butterfly's forewing when it flew out over a ridge, and Wisp blindly followed it into thin air. Luckily, Sunspire's ridges were short and the slopes were gentle, so the fall wasn't long and she landed on relatively soft grass. Unfortunately, her momentum threw her immediately into the side of a boulder lodged in grassy decline; she hit it square on with one tiny forelimb, which snapped at her wrist. Pain threw her panic, which was already mounting from the fall, into total overdrive, wrenching a blood-curdling screech from Wisp's throat.

She was found quickly, but if Wisp noticed Hyacinth or heard her question, there was no outward indication of it. The child was rocking side-to-side on her back, shrieking and flailing her tail madly as she tried to calm herself down while cradling her injured limb close to her chest. She had her eyes screwed shut and her ears plastered back in fear and displeasure. The butterfly was forgotten, although the pattern was branded into her brain as something negative now.

Everything about her said she was disconsolate and in no state to answer Hyacinth's question of consent; the healer would need to make the decisions for Wisp. The timid one-monther struggled enough with meeting new wolves when she was perfectly calm, but with a panic attack choking her and unexpected, unwanted pain wracking what little sense she had left, there was no getting through to her until something was done to make her relax.

No one could fault Hyacinth for not knowing Wisp and all her particulars. What the medicine woman did was exactly what any adult wolf would do to comfort any pup, only Wisp wasn't your average pup. Although being scooped up did serve to distract her from the pain in her leg for just long enough to open her teary eyes, it elicited more negativity in the child who didn't like to be cuddled or held than anything.

Screeching with displeasure, Wisp extended her good leg, planted her foot on Hyacinth's nose, and pushed with all her might. It was measly at best but served to communicate how she felt about being held, especially by someone unfamiliar. It was all too overwhelming for her, but luckily the wolf had also chosen to hum. Just like Rere, thought Wisp, and it was this that calmed her enough that she might be carried without fussing too much. She continued to try to push Hyacinth's head away, but her shrieking had died down to a blubbering sob and her eyes told a tale of pained confusion rather than outright fear.

Before she really knew what was happening, Hyacinth had hoisted her into the air and carried her back up the slope. She was held still and her limb was pressed too tightly to her chest to be jostled much, but she still wailed the whole time from discomfort alone. The pain was beginning to subside, replaced by a vaguely numbing sensation she would come to know as tolerance; the shock of it had worn off, but she could tell there was something not right about her leg.

So when she was deposited on the ground, Wisp kept it crooked up against her sternum. Hyacinth ducked low and began speaking and Wisp watched her with a wary and pained expression, understanding only a fraction of what was said. Her dark gold ears tipped toward the adult, but any attempt at eye contact was fruitless, for Wisp actively avoided making it. She stared instead at a spot on Hyacinth's jaw, where the fur was longer and feathery.

She shifted and bumped her leg and started from the jolt of pain that crept through her; that was all it took for the waterworks to start again. Eventually Hyacinth gave up on trying to calm her down with soothing words and comforting gestures and merely took her back to the den, where she offered half a crushed poppy seed, lulling Wisp halfway to sleep. Thus calmed, the healer bound two appropriately sized sticks to the sides of the pup's injured wrist with tightly wrapped cattail reeds and sap to keep them together. Once finished, the pack medic delivered the dozing babe to Liffey, who comforted her until she fell properly asleep with her injured limb held aloft.