Phantom Hollow Under The Burning Sun We Fight For Our Place

The past couple of days had been taken easy with the occasional dosage of medicinal plants to keep the pain of her injury at bay, and Mitanni was starting to see an improvement. She still moved with a limp--though that might have been her reluctance to fully strain herself and cause undue pain--but she was managing to get around better, and the torn flesh of her left foreleg was starting to mend itself together again. It still looked in disrepair, and likely could have done with the attention of a trained medic, but the little wolf was feeling encouraged by its slow and steady progress.

Enough so that when she heard Malice calling out for them, intent within her voice, the mottled black and brown female drew herself out of the healer's den and toward where her leader stood. She walked slowly, trying to mask her limp as best she could, and with her customary respectful posture offered a tentative smile as well as a subtle tail wag. All things considered, she was in a particularly good mood today, and she didn't feel like letting her condition bring her down. No matter what Malice had in store for them.