Bearclaw Valley through difficulties to the stars!

Truthfully, the greyscale Roman hated being indoors. He felt as though the walls of the cave was closing in on him, suffocating him, killing him, but it would do no good for his patients (hopefully he would not have any) to sleep outside. And he knew that many wolves actually liked dens, perhaps they liked to feel safe. Raziel withheld a scoff at the idea, cowards, all of them. But the warrior couldn't blame them, they hadn't been brought up in the brutal environment he had, most wolves here were as green as summer grass, and it truly wasn't there fault.

He would live in the den when he had patients, but when he did not, most likely the Roman would sleep just outside the den, facing the stars and the sky, his only companions for a long time before he arrived in Teekon Wilds. 

Calm teal eyes watched the albino eat the herbs he had given her, she obeyed his instructions well enough. He knew the taste was probably terrible, many of his previous patients had spat them out and refused to eat them, but it could not be helped. If they wished to continue to live, to survive, they couldn't let a piece of disgusting tasting plant stop them. If they did, then Raziel would not waste his herbs on them, a quick death would serve them better, those cravens.

A smile touched his features but was quickly gone, though he had softened up, the hardened, brazen warrior he had been and still was would never truly leave. "You still have to rest," the aspiring healer said, gazing resolutely at his friend, his fierce eyes unyielding.