Whitewater Gorge I will make you bleed

Tagging Aquene for reference

He ran.. and ran.. and ran, hoping that @Ryzhov hadn't been far behind him. He did not stop until the gorge had been reached. Surely they wouldn't chase him this far. It was too far from their own territory. They had no authority here.

Virion limped to the waterside, heavy scars veiling him like cloth. Blood soaked his fur. The beast had underestimated @Aquene's new companions, clearly. They would fight him unto death to see to that the bitch was protected. This infuriated him. Now, he not only had additional enemies, but no prize to drag at his side and share a bed with. However, this wouldn't be seen as much of a disadvantage, but more-so as incentive. Now, Virion had more of a reason to stick around. Aquene was his goal, as would be the fall of her pathetic pack. He would have his revenge. But for now, he must heal and keep his surroundings guarded. Enemies lurked everywhere.

Ryzhov had heard the call and it had surprised him quite a bit. He had not expected as much of a fight as the man had seemed to run into. He followed not long behind, having left the Akashingo wolf he had met before hearing the call in the first place. When he came into sight, his eyes widened, seeing the blood soaked fur and the limp that his leader carried. A part of him cursed under his breath as he made his way to the side. He knew basics of healing, solely so he did not need to rely on a woman’s paw to keep him alive. It would not look pretty, there would be scars, but he at the very least wouldn’t die.
 
“Commander, what happened?” He asked as he looked over the wounds. He needed to clean the wounds, but he trusted that Virion already knew that. Instead he would wait patiently to hear what had happened.

Ryzhov had come quickly to answer the beckon. Meanwhile the wait, Virion had been left pacing. There was much to think; much to do.

There are many eyes upon her. I made too hasty of a move and must now bear the consequences of my actions. A reference to the many scars littering his figure.

Aquene must wait. I must be patient. Soon, I will have her; but not yet. First, the ways of the trail must be revived. An empire must be built from the ashes we tread upon. Though a stern posture caused an unbearable pain, no weakness could be shown. Not now. Especially not in front of the only ally Virion had. From here on, he must carry only confidence and authority. 

He would be Pakhan after all, much to the surprise of those who had said it was unlikely.

The lieutenant listened with apprehension on his features. A frown soon met it as he looked over his commander’s wounds. Some were deep, and some would need medical attention in order to stave off natural causes of death. An infection could be detrimental to the healing of it.
 
There were eyes upon her. She had managed to slither her way into the care of others who would fight for her and the disgust for the situation and her audacity showed on his features for a moment. At the mention of the Trail, his ears perked, a malicious grin on his features as he offered a sly nod. “Absolutely, Virion. I can start to search for recruits for your empire.” He confirmed with a nod on his features. “First, we should clean your wounds. A few of your marks are deep.” He offered as an unbiased opinion.
 
“The Trail shall return stronger than it ever was under your leadership, Pakhan.”

Virion spoke and his follower listened. Oh how sweet the taste, to see another bowing at his feet; metaphorically speaking, of course.. but it was the same nonetheless.

Your wounds need healing. The man of pale coat heard these words and wished to scoff; though, he could not deny the truth behind them. But the suggestion that Ryzhov be the one to do so? Now that made him want to laugh. Such wasn't a man's job. It was a woman's. And so, he would find a woman to do it.

Virion let his thoughts be known. A heavy scowl appeared upon his facade. No soldier of mine will stoop to tending wounds. You will indeed search for recruits; and meanwhile, I will set sights for a healer. When I am readily able to travel, I will come for you. Silence was then waited within, an expecting gaze waiting for Ryzhov's response.

He noted the scowl and he considered arguing back, arguing that a man should know how to tend to wounds of war himself so he did not need to rely on a woman, for it would make them weaker but he feared the retribution that might follow. He hummed instead, offering a nod without pressing the issue further. He would find him when it was time, but Ryzhov was to instead to start searching for recruits.
 
“Yes, Pakhan, as you wish.” He thought of a moment the pathetic scrap he had met on the Flatlands. Would these lands yield fruitful soldiers or would they all be as weak-willed as the women? “I will search and bring back only those worthy to serve underneath you... those strong enough to survive as warriors.” It was a promise that he felt comfortable making.