Larksong Grotto The Wind is Unsteady

Still mottled with the blood of the previous day's brawl in the maplewood, Reek plodded along the borders with a steady and obvious limp. The mangled skin on his forelimb hung loose and painful, and clinging to the raw and exposed flesh was a roughly made poultice made from wild onions to keep the bacteria away. He had done this to most of his injuries, however, he was unable to reach the ear that had been lopped off at the tip by Luke's jaws and the long gash stretching across his face. There, he had to rely on standard washing.

He looked rough. Felt it too, but it didn't keep Reek from carrying out his duties to the pack. In fact, he found them more important now with the threat of the maplewood realized. He began his morning patrol as usual Reek slowly made his way to the edge of the territory.

Jaw clenching hard as soon as Reek noticed the familiar scent of the Maplewood, Reek nearly called the alarm for the rest of the pack. The wolves of the maplewood had finally come to chase him out, he was sure. However, before Reek made any hasty decision, he ascended a ridge and spied Esaro out in the distance -- it was only Esaro.

He shook his head, and made his way to the natural staircase that separated the grotto from the outside world. "Luke send you to finish the job he couldn't do himself?" snapped Reek as he approached, tail held high and gaze like stone.