Swiftcurrent Creek alehouse

lestan mayfair had certainly got himself into a fine kettle of fish. ordered by @Akavir to hunt for someone described as his 'red-headed little friend,' (@Indra III) the man had spent a good portion of an hour following a squirrel, being distracted by tiny quail, flushing frogs back into the creek, and missing his chance at a trout.
what he did find at last was a muskrat, and it lifted some of the sourness from him. 
lestan returned to the creek. he found her curled among foliage. she was as bad off as the man had said, and he stared in horror at her. "hello? hello. um. red-headed girl." he poked her a little, then dropped the muskrat and stepped back.

I hope it's okay if I hop in here since Akavir mentioned Indra to my girl as well!

When she felt she had done all she could for the men, she parted from their company to seek out the girl who'd been mentioned. One of the attackers - how intriguing!
It was not the scent of blood that called her attention to the girl's location, in the end, but a voice. Soft, easy to miss, but she pinpointed the source and was off in seconds... only to discover that it was not the girl speaking at all. She had company.
Oh, hello! I suppose you're here to help? All to the better; raggedy man was right, she's a mess, She stepped forward to peer more closely at the girl. Have you ever been tended by a healer, girl?

If she was hungry, the feeling was at the back end of a long list of other sensations. Pain was in the forefront, constantly. Breathing was a struggle given the seeping wound to her chest, the bruises to her ribs, and whatnot.
When she slept it wasn't by choice. Indra struggled there, too - and so, when voices gathered to assail her ears, she was alert and irritated immediately.
All she could do was watch and writhe, glare, and snarl lowly; so lowly that the feeling was swallowed up. It hurt to make any noise, but Indra needed them to know she was awake and listening.
And not happy.
If either of them got to close she wouldn't hold back the urge to snap those teeth.

actually, the more that he looked at her, the more indignant lestan became! "we know they hurt you," he said briskly, eyeing the woman who had materialized out of nowhere. she smelled faintly of the men but he did not think she was affiliated, having not scented her until this moment.
lestan's brow pulled in harshly. he turned to the stranger. "d-did you see how big that one was!" he pointed a theatrical paw at the wound in the girl's chest. "she is a — a! — well! she isn't nearly as strong!"
his tail lashed in anger. "i'm not a healer. so i will sit over here." and so lestan did, moving out of the way and sitting down with a righteous glare upon his face.

Akavir might have taken a great risk to he and Arric’s plans and well-being by keeping the feisty redhead in their vicinity, but he was not so foolish as to let two strangers he had little trust in unaccompanied.

So when the earthen wolf began exactly the way Akavir had assumed—the test to letting him near the redhead—the shadowrunner emerged from the foliage, champagne eyes pointedly upon them both. Swathed in herbs and medicines the little dove had painted him with, his gaze was fast upon Lestan, a brow raised.

“Were we supposed to let them tear us apart when they took the first attack?” His words quiet, weary, perhaps, but there was a simmering anger there. “They lead this girl into the attack. Encouraged her—so when the woman tried to escape with her, I stopped her. Because your other friends? The woman was close to bleeding out, barking orders for the girl to keep going, and the man? I threatened to kill this girl, and he goaded me to do it.”

He sneered. “As you can see, I didn’t. Not quite my style. This girl is free to go whenever she’s able to. But first—“ he looked to the healer. “She needs to heal up.” His gaze went back to the other. “When she’s able, by all means, Mayfair. Take her back to those friends of yours. See what other thieving and lowlife shit they can get her involved in until she is killed.”

I'm gonna continue since The Wanderer is inactive!

The black wolf reappeared and her eyes went to him, but it wasn't Indra the guy was interested in this time; he sought the narrowly-built man who spewed condemnations, and soon the two were bickering among themselves.

Better them than her, she thought.

She continued to listen to them only because she was within earshot, but otherwise kept her body coiled as best she could in to a tight formation, ready to strike if they got closer; this was hard, given her injuries. Her eyes flashed between them as they vollied words back and forth - for all the black wolf rambled, he made sense.

She took the title of lowlife with pride.

just like that, the dark wolf was upon him with words. lestan stood trembling and indignant but unwilling to fight, unwilling to justify. he knew the reality of a skirmish and that it had left all of them wounded.
but the pacifist in him was fierce. his cornflower eyes flicked to red, who had said nothing and whose young face held a distinct air of defiance.
"thank you for letting her be treated," lestan said at last, voice containing a firmness he did not feel. "i think yes — i think that i am the best to return her, as i was not involved."
and this time he did not keep the tone out of his voice, motioning that he would help the healer with whatever she needed.

'Thank you for letting her be treated.' The implication that the earthy wolf considered him barbaric certainly lingered between them, but Akavir only grunted in response, his eyes narrowing upon those before him in contemplation.

He wasn't a monster, right?

Doubt began to tick away at his mind, and with a rather brusque nod to what he considered Lestan's acquiescence on the matter, the shadowrunner moved away, leaving their presence, given his own seemed to hinder more than assist--especially when it came to the red wolf's demeanor.