Bearclaw Valley all the voyage of their lives are bound in shallows and in miseries

He drifted in and out of conscious, his eyes closing and his breathing was unsteady, shallow. There was darkness behind those eyelids, but yet he clung onto life, raging and fighting. The pack needed him as a warrior, a warden, the children of Kove and Scarlett, if they wold ever have children, needed protection, needed warriors like himself. Sure, Raziel had fought the intruders off, but more would accompany them next time, they would keep coming unless wolves like himself chased them off. He knew he was needed here, and so he kept fighting.

Raziel had lived a life, perhaps it wasn't a good one, but it was an honorable one nonetheless, one any true Roman soldier would be proud to live. And if he really died, at least he knew the fields of punishment was off the list. He wished for Elysium, for an afterlife of paradise, of feasting with the gods and absolute freedom, an afterlife without problems. It was so tempting, and it would be where he hoped to go if this was truly what the fates had for him.

The Roman hoped it wasn't his fate to die right now.

He felt the cool nose on his neck before he heard her, he felt pawing and nudging at him and knew they were trying to lure him out of the cool embrace of death. Raziel fought and blinked tiredly, barely focused green eyes taking in the scene above him, their faces were blurry and his brain had trouble comprehending them. "Hey," he murmured, a brave smile spreading weakly over his maw. There were no healers in Bearclaw as far as he knew, so Raziel knew if he wanted to live, he would need to instruct them.

"Moss....wet moss to clean the wounds, lick..licking is helpful too," the Roman began to recite what his adoptive father once taught him about healing. "Golden...goldenrod...on the grasslands....tall plant with golden flowers...chew it into a poul..poultice and apply to wounds. Cobwebs to stop..or slow bleeding...bind poultice to the wound with..cobwebs." He exhaled softly, determinedly focusing his attention on his packmates, hoping they would understand. "Mari..marigold..yellow flowers...grows near water..chew into poultice and apply.." 

"Pack..allies? Any...healers...nearby?" What he could do would only do so much. Raziel could only hope they understood.