Hushed Willows Necation

He was a little bemused by the trickster's sarcastic (and ironic) show of concern, but he remembered that he had proclaimed to be a lover of sorts, so he supposed this made sense. He listened carefully to the male's response as to why he had been toting a poisonous plant, but he found nothing wrong with it— ignoring the convolution of it and the other questions that now needed answering— and decided to respond only with a mildly affirming nod.

At the mention of scarring, Warbone shrugged. Scars were a way of life; trophies, even. "Most of the blood belongs to the wolverine. You waste your worry," the titan responded lightly, settling on the fond tone he reserved only for his packmates. "But if you must treat me then fine," he relented, and not without a firm grump returned to his voice. The tall wolf sat, blinking slowly as he patiently waited for Trick to begin whatever ritual he had for (to him) minor wounds.