Flycatcher Downs Ring ring, the bartender please?

For a wolf in her situation, she was still pretty heavy. He ignored her babbling, mostly because he had to hold on to one of her legs to keep her from slipping off entirely. Though his grasp was as gentle as it could be, he was keenly aware of his teeth's potential to break skin. Still, a few tooth marks would be favorable over dying.

Finally the lands grew green. Huffing and puffing he dragged her along, stopping every so often to heft her back up onto his shoulders when she slipped. He still needed to get her to water and food. It seemed like an eternity until he found a thin, shallow stream, little more than water flowing over rocks and through the grass. There was little danger of her drowning here, and so he felt it was safe to put her down. Look, I don't know if you can understand me, but I'm going to leave you here for a second, he told her. Then he dipped his paw in the water and splashed some at her face. This is water. Drink, cotillita. I will get you food. And after waiting for her response, he darted off to seek out some small prey.