wintersbane loops his patrol past the northeastern borders of blackfeather woods, with it's blood stains and the sickly sweet smell of decay. he sidesteps a decaying corpse as he makes his way into the creek's territory. it's not apart of the wood's claim but it and all the neutral territories that touch the dark woods are often times included in his personal patrols. scouting for prey more oft than not. he doesn't often find wolves this close to the dark wood without reason, though those new to the wilds might innocently find themselves tempting their luck ...and sometimes they willingly seek out the woods. sometimes, they seek to join.

what he does not find often is a wolf standing near the banks of the creek looking utterly confused. dazed, perhaps. nevertheless wholly uncertain. the tundrian's guard is up ( when is it not? ) as he approached, steps purposeful and cautious as glacial gaze assess the agouti colored man before him. the delta's chin rises upon his approach. "are you lost?" there is no accusation in the soturi's tone. it is a simple question, born out of curiosity and a desire for an answer. they are not close enough to blackfeather's borders that wintersbane perceives him as an immediate threat but still they are in a territory that touches it and wintersbane is territorial and protective to the point that neutral territory touching claimed lands is close enough.

wintersbane gives a quick, shallow assessment of the male's physical condition viewable to him from the distance between them, noting that he looks worn. no doubt he's seen better days. there is confirmation to his question. the other male is, as wintersbane had assumed, lost. "you're in otter creek," wintersbane informs him with a furrow to his brow before posing a follow-up inquiry. "does the name sound familiar?" was he from the wilds as so many were? or was he new? these are things that wintersbane cannot deduce by an assessment though it occurs to him that the other male might not have a response.

wintersbane ghosts forward a few steps, lured forth by his unbidden curiosity but cautious. he doesn't know this man and he could violate; though that consideration was short lived as the longer tries to rise from his place but ends up slumping into a sitting position instead. frankly, he didn't look like he was in any state to put up much of a fight and this belief drew the frosted tundrian closer still.

"you are unwell?" the question posed was strictly rhetorical; it's easy to see that there was something amiss with the loner as wintersbane was concerned. easily, wintersbane could leave him here and go on his way but something stops him. not necessarily a conscious but a consideration nonetheless. "what happened to you?" wintersbane asks next. his medical knowledge as a warrior is limited and basic but his knowledge had been enough to tend to tywyll and keep the boy alive. perhaps he could be of some use to this loner, too.

wintersbane watches as the male reacts to him drawing nearer, though as he speaks he clarifies that he has a pain in his head, looking to him with a suffering peach colored gaze. a secondary glimpse is given as he contemplates. he does, in fact, know something he could give the man to ease the pain. he considered the mushrooms he'd ingested ( out of curiosity but not a mistake he'd make again ) but the high they brought with them might only serve to aggravate the man's headache instead of alleviating it. he knows that poppy seeds work as a pain reliever but they would be have to administered in a very small dose. too much and the risk would run of getting the loner hooked on them.

"yes," the tundrian mouths in the way he'd learned that the enchanting listener spoke. he borrows her silent way of communicating now in the hopes that he might not be such a burden upon the other male's aches. wintersbane desires to ask why his head is hurting but considers that the loner might not have an answer. a possible concussion? temporary ( or permanent )memory loss? "i'll be right back." wintersbane mouths to the man before he turns and heads back to the woods knowing that he's seen poppy seeds in a medicinal cache.

wintersbane returns not too longer afterwords to where he's left the man and lays the piece of tree bark down with a poppy blossom on it and noses the bark towards the loner. "poppy will help with the pain," he takes a few steps back not wanting to be overly invasive for both of their sakes. "what's your name?" it was strange to be the first one to ask that; usually he was the one that was always on the receiving end of that particular question. wintersbane was using it to judge just how confused the loner was and to try to come to a diagnosis of if it was a concussion or memory loss of some sort.

"yes," the tundrian replies to the loner's question, glacial eyes squinting. "it is the only one you'll get and the only one you'll need. poppy is very potent and from what i've heard very addicting." wintersbane doesn't think that one will be enough to get him addicted, though, and he will not be consuming it with the want to grow an addiction. the delta of the dark woods watches as the male lowers his head to eat the medicinal flower and draws in another breath, taking in the loner's scent once more. he knows he is lone, that much he can tell but beyond that there are no other lingering scents that wintersbane can detect. no companions then, he assumes.

headache, sensitivity to sound and light, can't recall name. he catalogs these symptoms silently. potentially both a concussion and temporary memory loss. a more knowledgeable medic would have to take a look at him. as it was wintersbane wouldn't dare call himself a medic, per say. he knew enough about wounds and how to treat pain to handle field application if he was away from home or a practiced medic.

"i'd ask you if you remembered how you got your headache but...," wintersbane trails off figuring that it spoke for itself. "sounds like you could've taken some damage to your head. a fall or an attack." a fall sounded more likely. "you might just be suffering from a concussion," he concludes and shifts his weight. "or it might be temporary memory loss. either way," wintersbane drawls with a soft pause taken on a deep breath. "it'll take a while for you to fully recover." the tundrian deduces.

wintersbane almost misses the soft, whisper words of gratitude that come from the other man. in wintersbane's world he rarely does things out of the kindness of his heart. perhaps, the maned delta considers, there is no kindness to be found there and if there is it is reserved for so little few. the tundrian draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a slow exhale. he was in no position to offer the male any sort of temporary refuge and wintersbane had other things to do; he couldn't remain out here forever. his weight shifts as he contemplates, eyeing the other male up once more. it seems a bit imprudent to bombard him with the recruitment song and dance, especially since his memory seems to be not all together whole at the current moment.

"i know i didn't." wintersbane remarks on the topic. silence falls and it is some time before wintersbane's lips part to speak once more.

"you wouldn't be interested in joining a pack, would you?" the tundrian asks conversationally, as if that's normally something someone asks of a complete stranger. blackfeather woods isn't hurting for numbers and it wouldn't hurt wintersbane's feelings if the stranger flat-out declined but there the tundrian isn't one to waste an opportunity when he sees one, regardless of how slim the chances of success may or may not be.