twisted and terrified

He half-listened, not because he had no interest in the answer but because his head was still cloudy and pained him. His gaze drifted from the fox to what little of his reflection he could make out in the disturbed waters in what remained of the lake. He could see the dark of blood that colored one side of his face and lifted his good leg as if to brush it off, wincing as he grazed the wound from which the blood seeped.

The fox offered help as Luke turned to nose around his injured leg. It was sore, but unbroken. It would heal on its own in time, so long as he did not stress it too badly. Are you hungry? the smaller mammal asked next. "Ah," he began, glancing around at the spread of fish. Short of still flopping around the fish were as fresh as fresh got. Before them was a banquet, but sadly, if he was hungry it was overshadowed by concern for his companions and by pain.

"Not really," he answered, his shoulders slumping with a sigh. "I need to go check on my friends. I don't suppose..." he trailed off, eyes meeting the fox as he debated asking for the help he needed. "Er... do you think you could..." he canted his head, shuffling a bit. "Help me clean up a bit?" Luke quirked a small smile, knowing all too well that he was asking to borrow the tongue of a creature wolves did not commonly associate with, and with a stranger at that.