Noctisardor Bypass High unicorn tolerance

The scent of blood still wreathed her, though the wound which had nearly killed her had long since crusted over. Goldfinch's return to the bypass saw her too thin, ragged of coat, nearly stumbling every few steps. The wound across her chest had refused to heal; only sheer determination drew her forward, determination that she would not leave @Rowyn to wait and wonder forever.

His scent wasn't so strong here anymore, though. Goldfinch collapsed in a patch of soft new grass, breathing in the sweet green scent of it. Maybe she would die here. Maybe finding her body would be explanation enough for Rowyn... if he ever came back to look.

Rowyn had left the she wolf @Treepie behind with the promise ot return at some point with Finch in his company, he hoped at least. It had been a nice reprieve with the she wolf of the spear. He had enjoyed her company despite himself.

He arrived near the bypass, but not quite and the scent of blood overwhelmed him. For a moment his heart stuttered, but with a determined clip he trotted forward. 
Finch? Dove sei?

He pressed his nose to the ground and headed towards it.

Goldfinch could not have said how long she stayed there, collapsed in the grass. When she heard Rowyn's voice, she thought she must be dreaming. Dreaming, or dying — but real or not, she could never ignore his call. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment. Goldfinch pulled herself to her feet, tail moving with hope and tentative joy in spite of the pain. She'd missed her boy, more than she'd realized she would.

She managed a weak howl, stepping toward the sound of his voice even if she had no hope of clearing the distance between them herself. She just wanted to see him. If she could see him, then maybe she could finally let herself truly rest.

Rowyn heard the reedy weak howl and his fur rose in abject fear. He rushed forward. Gods if she had gotten hurt when he wasn't here. What had he done? He cursed his quiet need to travel and roam. He had left her all alone, granted she had left too. But his mind could not fathom that at the current moment in time. 

Upon his arrival Glass blues took her in. The dried caked blood. Her weak form. 

Mio Dio! 

he traced a nose along her head, searching for any other wounds. I don't know much about healing. But. I can at least get some fluff and get you to a pack I know. Come on Finch.

She whined softly, but made no protest as Rowyn inspected her more closely. He didn't ask what had happened, and that was just as well; she didn't want to talk about it. Not yet. But when he mentioned a pack, the girl stiffened slightly.

Pack? She repeated warily even as she tried to get her feet back under her. It was a slow, halting endeavor, but she managed. Turquoise eyes studied Rowyn intently, as if she could find some difference in him for having made contact with strangers. But she saw none. It was just him, the same as he'd always been.

But what if he liked these strangers better than her?

She was pretty bloody and tore up. He was panicking deep inside. Because he had no idea about medicines. He knew enough to find some fluff from reeds. Very weak and ugly fluff as spring had not fallen upon them. But it would do the job he hoped. He tried to place that there on her chest that was still bleeding a bit. 

Rowyn had no qualms about meeting other wolves. Was he guarded yes. Did he seek them out? No usually. But he had no issue with it. He was slightly taken aback as Goldfinch searched his face for something, but what he was uncertain. 

Yea run by a girl named Treepie. She wants to meet ya. Moonspear is it's name.

A girl, Goldfinch repeated slowly, ears flattening with the words. No ordinary jealousy, this; it mingled with a vague sense of betrayal, disbelief. Could a girl really take him from her so easily? Had this Treepie seen him at his lowest, had she fed him and protected him as Goldfinch had done?

Did she deserve his devotion?

Her ears twitched irritably. She might have said more, but just then she gave a little start as if struck. My... Goldfinch swallowed, looking around for her familiar with a sudden fear in her eyes. My - my bird... where...

A nod. Sì. Una ragazza. Amichevole.

Rowyn was not privy to the darkening thoughts of Goldfinch. As far as he was concerned he had done nothing wrong. But be kind to another. Goldfinch did not own his devotion or his kindness. IT was his alone to give as he saw fit. That much he knew. 

He lifted his head from the ministrations of the reeds. We will find him. Come. Va bene

Goldfinch could never hold a grudge against Rowyn for long. He would speak those strange words, foreign words, things she was only beginning to pick up the meaning of, and all over again her irritation would melt away. Sharp-edged girl that she was, he alone could soften her this way. He alone had been allowed near enough to manage it.

She nodded, eyes already on the tree-tops. Her first steps forward were hesitant, slow with pain and stiffness, but she quickly gained pace. The bird had never abandoned her before. Goldfinch feared the worst, though she would never say it.

She lifted her muzzle toward the trees and sang out a high, trilling note: a near-perfect mimicry of the bird's own song.

Finch was different than most wolves, but so was Rowyn. Their traumas gave them a different outlook on life. And that made some things harder and easier to take.

The different languages he spoke. The Spanish the Italian. He kept it up the words he knew. To honor his mother's. The only tie he allowed them to keep upon him.

Rowyn followed her gaze. He hoped the finch wouldn't leave her. It was one of the few things she liked. But part of him wondered if it was in part to her wound had it gotten away from whatever had attacked her unscathed.