The devil has my ear today
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#1
For anyone from SS. Maybe @Tonravik or @Iqniq but anyone would do. :)

After her run-in with the Blackfeather wolves, Salamander knew she had only so long before her wounds would take her life. The bite had torn through the meaty girl's throat, just at the junction of her neck and shoulder. It had missed the jugular, but only barely. Blood still flowed at a low pace, making her sway more and more as her body stumbled and ran. No, there was no time, but she was determined.

Coming upon a creek which sprout from the mountains, Salamander thought to stop and cleanse the wound; she was desperately thirsty as well, her head pounding from the blood loss and subsequent dehydration. However, the woman continued to travel - her pace becoming almost leisurely despite the spiked adrenaline - and in a moment of pure fear, believing she was ultimately going to die here in the shadow of the mountains, she raised her head and gave a strangled cry for help.
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#2
Another howl. That was two in one day. He wasn't sure if it was because the Spire had won the lottery or that was simply the way of things. One by one wolves were coming back to them. They won some. They lost others. It was the losses that hurt the worst, but they made the wins that much sweeter. Sort of. If a loss was death? There was no coming back from that. Those losses stung deep and made Iqniq all the more desperate to save what was left.

He'd just settled Aariak in when this second howl rose. Dismissing himself, he ambled quickly towards their borders over the rugged, difficult to navigate terrain that made up these treacherous spires. He moved quickly. That call had not been one filled with much life. It had been strangled. He noted those tones and moved with a burst of speed akin to the urgency within such a cry.

He traveled lower, nearer to the foothills when ultimately he spotted a familiar face. "Aupârtok!" he remembered, recognizing her instantly. He moved, hastening to her side as she attempted to lap from the stream. "You're hurt. What happened?" Stating the obvious, but they had to start somewhere.
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#3
She did not have to wait long, and was initially defensive as a wolf came careening down the mountain paths towards her. Drifting as she was, Salamander did not identify the golden wolf as he came close, and instead drew up in to a weakly defensive posture; no longer was she the powerhouse she had once been. Now, every movement felt like it was being translated to a body that was no longer her own. Her teeth bared, briefly, and were red streaked with old blood as well as new; she coughed, and then sank. When the wolf spoke, she knew not to be so distrustful - not many knew of her name among the Tartok wolves.

Her breathing was ragged, but she composed herself enough to form a quick synopsis.

"Storm confused me," she started, since that was where it all began, with that damn weather, "I tried to find the mountain, but... Found black feathers instead," she gagged softly then, and looked to him - seeing his golden pelt but not the details. Iqniq, made of fire. "Help me." The command was pathetic as it left her lips, and for a moment Salamander looks utterly defeated.
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#4
The smell of blood was thick on the air. Wounded, he dismissed her defensive stance until she realized who exactly had found her. Or so, he hoped she recognized him. Either way, her posture lowered and her defenses fell. Iqniq moved closer towards her, tucking his body beneath her head and chest so she might lean against him if she needed to. "Easy there," he said softly, keeping his movements somewhat slow now that he'd reached her. "You're home now. Let's get those wounds looked at and tended."

They could talk more later. His immediate concern was the blood around her neck. Fresh and old, it was evident to him that she'd been holding on long enough to make it to these foothills. Lucky for her, she was nearly to a stream. A few more paces and they could get her there. The water would help rehydrate her. If she stabilized further, he could find something to treat that wound and possibly find her a little something to eat to help restore the iron or whatever else she'd lost for all the bleeding.

"Think you can make it to the water?" he asked, glancing towards her. "Just a few more paces and you can rest."
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#5
It hurt her pride to ask for help. This was not something she could do lightly, but dying was worse than any hurt feelings. When prompted to move towards the stream, Salamander gave a small groan of protest, but was moving as soon as she was directed - it was important to wash the wound, Iqniq was right.

She dragged her heels as she walked though, and nearly tripped on an exposed root in the process. As her toes touched water, the red woman's teeth flashed with displeasure (even though the cold was so distant because of her condition), yet she still took another couple of steps before seemingly losing strength. Salamander lay on her belly then, and placed her head down upon her paws; red streaked through the creek's water as it flowed by.

"The pack.. Moved?" she asked as clearly as she could, curious about the state of Tonravik and the rest. When had Salamander gone missing? How many days had it been? Much could have changed. "Tonravik -- is she safe?" Aside from the dark female, Iqniq was her only ally, and he was clearly unaffected.
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#6
They made slow progress, but she complied and eventually they made it to the stream where her strength failed. He didn't blame her. If he was in her condition, he imagined he'd be light headed too. "Mmm. Easy there," he said softly, helping her towards the water. "Drink up. The water will help." The suggestion was at her leisure, but recommended. One could lead a wolf to water, but they couldn't make them drink.

"Mind if I take a look at that?" he asked her, mostly out of courtesy and warning before he turned to tend to her neck. He ran his tongue within the water, dampening it, and then groomed the fur around the wound. He needed a better idea as to how large it was and how much it'd had a chance to heal before he could really do anything about it. If nothing else, this would help for the moment.

"The Spine was hit by that massive storm. First by fire, then by flood. We howled for you, but you were missing." They'd tried. He wanted her to know they'd searched for her; that they'd not forgotten her in the chaos. "When we returned to it the morning after, it was uninhabitable. We had to move." He was making quick work on her fur and from the looks of it, she was extremely lucky. That wound was near fatal, but he'd found her just in time and she'd survive this.

"Tonravik is doing well," he assured her. "She gave birth to four boys shortly after we reached this place. She's been busy." There. That would do it. "Will you be okay here if I go to look for something to help with that? I'll try not to be gone for long."
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#7
He led her towards the water, and then as she sank in to the refreshing wetness of the bank, began to tend to the wound. A low rumble overtook her throat as soon as he started, but it wasn't malevolent; it wasn't even truly directed at Iqniq, but at the sensation of having another set of teeth so close to her throat. An instinctual reaction. After a few minutes Salamander acclimatized, and the warning sound died away.

Iqniq then explained the storm, the pack's desire to find every lost soul, and the hunt for her. It pained her more to think of them without a home; of wasting precious time and resources trying to hunt her down, and now this. More resources, more time, just to tend to a wolf who couldn't even fight against a single assailant. There had been numerous Blackfeather wolves, but one of them was injured and the other used their tongue to lash out, not their teeth; in effect, Salamander only had one enemy that day. To fail the way she had, to receive such a grievous wound, tore more at her pride than at her flesh.

The leader's probing of the wound stung her, sharply, and Salamander was roused from her defeatist thoughts; her teeth bared in a brief flash, but then the expression abated.

"Will you be okay here if I go to look for something to help with that?" Iqniq inquired, probably to distance himself from her agitated and eager teeth (but knowing her luck, any rage-filled rebuke would only miss its mark). "I'll try not to be gone for long."

She gave a slow nod, but said nothing. The wound was not flowing as profusely as before. If he was indeed fast on his feet, she saw no reason to worry.
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#8
Her natural reactions were of no consequence to him. He was mated to Tonravik, after all. She was quicker to snap than to converse and it had given him much practice when it came to ignoring reactions in the form of instinct. He was working on a very sensitive and vulnerable area. She was already wounded. He could be patient in this so long as her snarls were more for herself than for him.

He worked somewhat quickly but efficiently. He'd removed the crusted old blood from her nape and kept an eye on the wound that still flowed freely. It was slowing. It was evident her body was already trying to heal, but a little assistance from him would speed the process along. He licked near to the wound, but not on it. Too close... Her snarl and flash of fangs warned him off of it. Stubbornly, he bore his own teeth to her. Watch yourself. He was trying to help.

Iqniq saw too it that she was not too near to the water to accidentally drown herself should she suddenly feel faint. Satisfied with her position on the floor, he left her long enough to hunt down something that would be of use to him. Moss? Possibly, but not that kind. These mountains were somewhat limited, but he kept looking and– Ah ha! There.

He snagged a twig of Oak leaves and returned. Settling back by her side, he checked in on her briefly and cleaned the wound once more. He rinsed the leaves in the water, cleaning them, before he began to layer the leaves across her neck. The swell of blood held them in place, acting as a natural sort of glue within her fur. It would hold for now. They'd fall off when the bleeding stopped, but at least the wound was covered.

"How's that feeling?" he asked, checking in on her verbally this time.
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#9
As he attached bits of leaf against her wound, she resisted the urge to snarl and lash out. Each touch to the inflamed skin made her more agitated, but his earlier warning was still somewhat sharp in her mind. At his prompting, she gave a nod - yes, things were better - but she could've been lying, as the expression on her face was still one of pain and discomfort. Anything was better than the adrenaline-laced terror from when the Blackfeather wolves had taken after her.

"Rest." She all but grunted, declaring a need or maybe just making a request. Salamander would likely not be able to move far from the riverside, and she would need the protection of the pack. Urged by this need for sleep, Salamander suddenly lurched to her paws and tried to step around Iqniq - and instantly, she seemed to lose consciousness. A moment of blackness overtook her vision, her mind blurring, and she stumbled.

As she collapsed, the jarring sensation of contact seemed to rouse her again. She lay there for a second, stupefied, and then struggled to try and stand again; this time, she didn't succeed, and tried to voice her concern by opening her mouth. But as she did this, she noticed the copper taste of blood in her mouth - and began to wretch.
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#10
His simple question was met with a nod. That would do. When she was feeling better they could talk again and he could discover more about what had truly happened to her. For now? For now they simply needed to get her further into packlands so she could sleep off the stress of her travels. Here on the borders? That would never happen. The Spire wasn't about to send a wolf to watch her here on the edges of their lands. No. They'd have to bring her inwards so they could let her recover were it was significantly more safe.

He lifted to his feet. "You can rest soon," he told her. "Let's get you further into our lands first." Iqniq moved, shifting his position to help her to her feet. Their efforts were short lived as her legs gave out from underneath her. He frowned. This... might take some time. He exhaled deeply, then padded out into the water and splashed at her. She needed to be awake for this journey.

She roused. Another attempt at getting to her feet was short lived and coupled by the vomiting of blood. He frowned. If there was internal bleeding happening here, she was beyond saving and would die here on their borders. He lowered his teeth to the healthy side of her scruff and dragged her closer to the stream. "Drink up," he said again. He was not about to leave a dying wolf on their doorstep. "Drink up and get up." He'd help her, he would, but she had to want to live in order to get herself to a place where she could survive.

All they had to do was make it up that mountain.

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