Bearclaw Valley Oh my brother, how worried I am

The injuries did not matter much to the warrior, but he loathed being under care and not being able to do anything by himself. He had regained conscious but was still rather severely injured, his wounds were numerous and though most were light scratches, there were a few serious ones, especially the ones on his chest, the one that nearly had him dying. Thank gods they had the herbs needed for him to stop dying and that he had managed to say all he could about wounds before he faded away. When Raziel woke up, he had been surprised to see he was still alive, and glad, no healer had arrived though, it had been his packmate's efforts and his own that kept him alive. He was deeply thankful for them, but it would take years for him to actually admit that.

That night, he slept fitfully in the Alpha's den and it was only in the morning did he realize that he had a fever. But Raziel could do nothing about it, the gods took pity upon him and sent him to the realm of Somnus until Scarlett arrived back at the den. Her scent drew him away from his sleep and into conscious, he blinked tiredly at her as she placed an otter carcass in front of him and began licking over his wounds, applying paste on some of his injuries then asked him if he wanted water too.

Raziel gazed at the otter carcass in front of him, lowered his head and touched it with his nose before nudging it away. "I don't want to eat..." he murmured softly, "I think I have a fever." Water would do him good but in his current condition, he doubted he could move at all.