Horizon Ridge I can be you're saving grace if you'll let me

I was going to let this open for someone else to take so I don't hog you all the time but Björn was like "nope". x"D

Björn grew weary of sleep and restless in the demand to ‘rest’. Resting was not the same thing as healing. Healing would happen gradually as his body repaired the damage done to it, but resting made Björn, whom was not an idle creature by nature, bored and irritable, despite that he stubbornly saw to his Warden duties and had once taken a trip outside of the territories in search of any that might have wondered off and were too frightened to return. His search had turned out with no avail, if any had fled the territory that he either perished of their wounds or found shelter elsewhere Björn had been left to assume. Finding that the scabbing wound was itching and sweating beneath the rudimentary wrappings Thistle had bound them in, despite their relative freshness, Björn had ripped them off and contented to soothe the itch with his tongue, resisting the urge to bite for he did not want to end up tearing open the scab mainly because he did not want listen to another lecture from Thistle.

Björn had taken some portion from his morning before he laid food from the caches near the severely injured for when they awoke, and consumed some for himself not yet well enough to hunt on his own, to rinse saltwater over the scab, as a precaution, the ice cold water soothing the itches that often consumed him there. After that he had set upon his patrols giving pause only when an intoxicating scent wafted through the air, causing leathery, black nostrils to flare and without consciously deciding to trace it to it’s owner, Björn found himself following it to Thistle, regardless.

For a moment the scarred Savage stood there, staring down at the fawn colored maiden Caribbean blue eyes seething with dark, feral desire from the very primal of his core. It was the musk of another male - of another pack - that kept Björn frozen, giving him a glimpse of a clear mind of which he clung too, the dark desires swimming in his eyes freezing and moving to settle like ice in his stomach, giving no sign that it had once been there so plainly. “It is time I stopped calling you maiden, I think,” Björn broke his silence. Björn could not take down to her about her tryst if only because he had many with intentions of having many more (and if they bore him sons then that was even better). “It no longer seems to fit. You reek of him,” Björn stated obviously, wondering just how long it would take for her to begin showing unless he was infertile.