Swiftcurrent Creek you call out

As her skin twitched and shuddered beneath the slick touches of his probing tongue, he considered stopping in an incessant worry that he was hurting her, but Fox made no move to side-step him or otherwise rebuke his ministrations, so he kept at his surprisingly gentle service as smoothly as possible. He had only groomed one other wolf before in his entire life, and though he could not compare the two situations, he found himself doing it anyway.

The salt of her raw, healing flesh was unpleasant, as wolf's blood tended to be—especially the dried and crusted type—but Haunter was not persuaded to stop. In fact, though the wolf would be hard-pressed to be called glad in any fashion, he found himself completely content to be attending to Fox's injury. Perhaps it was because she was his Alpha, but then again, if he had refused, he doubted she would've punished him besides being disappointed. So, maybe it wasn't that...

Without entirely meaning to, he had left the top of her shoulder, and began to slowly, meticulously follow the lengthy claw marks down to her side.