Redhawk Caldera Only blue or black days

One dead eye, eh? That had a mighty ring to it - Peregrine 'Dead Eye' Redhawk - and the thought made Njal smirk dumbly. He didn't mention it though, lest the alpha grow further despondent about his situation. A missing eye was painful, perhaps even tragic, but it wasn't the worst that could happen. Wolves that lost their eyes in the heat of battle were remembered for years in the north - at least from Njal's memory - and he saw no reason why it couldn't be the same for Peregrine. He'd have to make up something better than, 'I hit my head and then it exploded one day' but, whatever.

Njal's thoughts were drifting far and wide from the conversation at hand. He didn't return to Perry and his chattering until he heard mention of his own injury. As if on cue, his hip flared with pain and the attached limb felt as if it was being twisted all over again. The old man grit his teeth for a second until the worst of his ghostly ills faded, and then tried to respond.

"It takes teeth actually. If I could break limbs with my balls that'd be some kind of magic." Okay, so he wasn't aware of how strange a statement that was until after it was spoken, but even then, there was no recovery possible. Njal gave a small shrug of one shoulder instead, appearing rather sheepish, and then tried to move beyond the mental image that flourished in his mind. "You've got bear chasers and now tree wrestlers in your ranks. I jus' wish I had done more to the tree. Think I just... Bled on it, or something."