Redhawk Caldera Heart of a dog

"Oh," was all Ashmedai could say as Peregrine flopped to the floor in a show of unmanly grace, reaching out towards his kill, then looking disappointed when the smaller male picked it off the floor again to mumble around it. He tilted his head, re-dropping the animal and pushed it towards his alpha, intent on making sure that he didn't displease the one who kind of controlled his future at the moment.

"You'd better have it, then. I can hunt another." Eyes flicking to Peregrine's limbs, Ashmedai took note of how he'd been limping earlier, keeping the weight off one of his legs. Perhaps he is hurt, the man told himself, and then shook his head to himself, correcting his thoughts. Of course he is hurt. Why else would he be wobbling?

Or, he could be out to earn an easy meal. "I do hope you're alright, sir." he intoned, still looking intently at the leg. Was it... broken? It didn't look swollen, so Ashmedai assumed that with his relatively mediocre reservoir of medical knowledge, it wasn't a sprain. Besides, he'd experienced sprains as well and knew that he could put weight on them - unlike Peregrine, who had kept his body balanced on his three legs instead.

Well, he was heavier, but proportions spoke for themselves.