Nimbus Summit apologetically dressed in the best

@Faun <3

He was rather worried about the woman as they finally reached the borders. The beta wondered how much longer she could remain on her feet, but he hoped at least long enough to make it to @Lane. 

I will take you to my mate; she is a healer and not very far from here. He would support the woman if needed, hopefully making it to Lane before her strength fizzled out.

For all she was, Faun had found that she possessed endurance beyond what she knew. That was the only reason she was still standing, the world having gone dull and blurry at the edges. She could barely pick up her feet, but she did it because safety was right around the bend.

Her tired eyes lifted at Tuuluuwaq’s words, relief flashing across her face in the form of a weak smile. Antique pink then slipped from him, to her pale paws. One foot in front of the other, on she went.

Lane was outside of her medicine cave at the base of the mountain, hanging the yield of her latest herb run upon the gorgeous drying rack that Tuuluuwaq had procured for her.  She caught her husband's scent on the wind, and she turned to greet his approach with a smile and a wag of her tail. 

She was surprised to see a woman limping along beside him, all legs and angles with rumpled fur and an exhausted bearing. Lane's smile morphed into a look of concern, and she hurried to meet the pair. 

Just from the way she walked, it was clear that she had a leg injury, but the shallow and labored quality of her breathing also seemed to indicate some kind of internal injury. 

Should she allow Lane to approach, the medic would mover to support her open side, being extra careful of the injury she suspected was present beneath the surface of her heaving side. 

"Hey.. there we go," Lane murmured gently as the three of them fell into a (rather lurching) rhythm of movement. "Not far now." She shot a concerned over to Tuuluuwaq.  Were she a jealous woman, she might have wondered why he seemed to always be playing the hero opposite to so many damsels-in-distress. As it was, Lane just figured he was lucky he was married to a medic, and she left it at that. 

She would lead them into the cave at the base of the mountain. The air in the cave was warmer than might be expected and scented lightly of lavender.

Tuulu would meet Lane's concerned look with one of his own. He didn't know what had happened to the woman, nor had he really wasted time asking. All he had been concerned with was getting her to Lane, to safety. 

Faun told him before they left that she had healing skills. He would leave that conversation for her to have with his mate. They would help her regardless. 

He would quietly offer support until the got to the cave, and then he would help get the injured woman into a seated or laying position, whichever was more comfortable for her. Once settled, he would remain near the entrance as a guard and an extra hand if needed.

The world was a blur, until she was allowed to lie down. Her head thumped next to her paws, eyes closing against a rising nausea, before the girl managed to settle her rolling stomach.

The past few weeks were a guillotine. And she was unable to push past it once the blade fell. Tears gathered in her eyes, unable to be shoved back, and Faun began to sob in earnest.

Merci, merci, thank you, th-thank you merci- The gratitude was real, as was her renewed sobbing at getting it all out, at finding somewhere to rest, to finally getting off her sore, aching feet.

They managed to get the girl settled in the cave, and Tuuluuwaq took up a posting outside. Lane brushed his cheek in parting, and when she turned back to the injured woman, she was met with an unexpected sight. 

The girl was crying. 

Words of appreciation fell from her in addition to tears, and at least some were in a language other than Common. Perhaps these were tears of gratitude, then? Big emotions were somewhat out of Lane's wheelhouse, but anything other than tears of pain had to be better than the alternative. 

"Rest now-- you can thank us later," Lane assured the girl, amber eyes lingering on her curled frame. The girl had settled in a way that appeared to favor one side, indicating an internal injury-- a broken rib, perhaps. 

Lane would start with cleaning and wrapping the foreleg wound, and if the woman allowed it, she would move on to examine her for any other injuries. She hoped that the woman would relax enough to allow for sleep. 

"What's your name?" Lane asked as she worked.