Meadowlark Prairie the transit from a doomed universe

He didn't get far. Whether that was caused by his injury or his will didn't really matter. He'd crossed from the claim's limits through the trees, then found himself surrounded by melting snow and tendrils of green grass trying to emerge; that's all there was, now. 

Distant mountains to the southwest where he knew Towhee remained. A band of black forest on the horizon to the northeast. A peppering of weathered oak and beech trees occasionally breaking up the emptiness. Reyes wasn't able to run anymore and so he stalked along instead, head down, his ragged coat hanging like sphagnum where it wasn't serrated with anger.

Sorry, Mom.

Lilitu was on the move again, and she wasn't going to stop until the sun went down. There was just too much to see and not enough to do (at least in her mind) at the fen.

And so she wandered, wandered, strolling out onto the open prairie with a pep in her step. Such was the dichotomy between herself and the bedraggled stranger that she didn't even notice him for a wolf; she assumed him part of the scenery instead. A fallen ruddy tree, or perhaps an old kill. 

So when she noticed he was moving, it was quite the shock.

Oh! she gasped, heart thudding hard in her chest. She came closer, albeit warily, staring at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. He was broken and bloodied. He looked like he belonged on that mountain with the rest of the bodies. 

Are you okay? Lilitu asked, though it was rhetorical—of course he wasn't okay. But she didn't know what else to say, and so she gawped at him instead.

He was hurting. Blood soaked his shoulder and would continue to seep from the wound for a while, and he almost fell victim to the urge of sleep. Instead, when a shape materialized nearby, he swung his head to glare towards it; they shouted at him. Or, maybe not at him - he was not sure, too dizzy from the whirlwind of fight-or-flight still filling his veins. 

There came a question perched on his shoulder like a songbird; light and quick and young, this one. Reyes continued to glare, wondering if he was imagining her or -- maybe not, maybe fate had given him what he needed for once.

Stay back, he warned. Whoever this was, they looked wet behind the ears. Too soft. Couldn't have been a yearling yet, if that. And stay away from the caldera — the mountains thataway, he tried to motion with his chin but it made him want to vomit, and he stalked off a few steps, swaying as he went. Assholes live there. One'of'um bit me.

Lilitu folded her ears back at his obvious standoffish nature. Sorry, jeez, she said, a little affronted. She'd just wanted to help, after all. But she didn't even know what a caldera was—some kind of mountain or something? Lilitu had the feeling that if she asked, she'd just get more pushback.

So she took a different tack, thinking of Bridget instead. Do you need a medic? she asked. She knew diddly squat about healing, but maybe if she rolled up her sleeves and took on this challenge, she might find her purpose in life. If it was medicine, anyway. She was afraid that if she got too close to his wounds, she might gag a little.

But. Didn't know until you tried, right?