Lost Creek Hollow a lonesome star in a bitter sky

Chasing a coyote? Harlyn furrowed her brow thoughtfully. Yes, that would explain the odd scent of an other that she had caught. It troubled her that a cat would hunt a coyote at all, especially when it had instead attacked her partner - perhaps it had a taste for canine blood. More than that though, she was bothered that the spirits had seen fit to force such terrible luck on them. Mordecai had simply been n the wrong place at the wrong time, and he had been mauled for it.

Harlyn cleaned his wounds tenderly and quietly for a few minutes longer before she stopped and looked at him. "You're lucky that you're not in too bad of shape," she said, "Quite unlucky to have been attacked at all, but still." she sucked in a steadying breath before her mind could go too far towards what might have happened his bad luck not run out.

"We'll need a bit more though," she murmured finally, forcing the anxiety from her voice. As a healer, she was quite used to keeping her calm in dire situations. Not that Mordecai's was too dire, but without medical attention and protection, it could be.

"You need medicine," the alpha said after a beat, "I won't leave you alone like this. I can call someone? Or help you to shelter?"