Jade Fern Grove i may not know my flowers but i know a bitch when i see one

The trip to the woods and back again had taken a greater amount of time than he’d originally believed that it might. He’d dragged his feet during several points of the journey there, having wondered if he’d been doing the right thing or not. To leave his family for a group of strangers—it was illogical, he’d once thought, though the reminder that Cicero lived in Blackfeather had easily corrected his views. Away from them, he was safer, and so he’d eventually reached the woods and took care of all that was necessary. After leaving, he’d needed to rest, but had then been quick to get his legs moving again afterwards. He had a place that he needed to return to, and strangers that he, surprisingly, wanted to see.

For the most part, he’d moved without any issues. It was only once he’d needed to cross the range that a problem had been met. Going up, he’d managed just fine, but going back down was an entirely different story. Foolishly had his paw been placed, pressed down upon a bedding of loose rocks. Without hardly any warning, the ground had run away from beneath him and down the boy had gone, having twisted himself just enough so that he wouldn’t smash his face into the rocky surface. His left shoulder had taken the majority of the hit, followed then by his side and thigh. By the time he’d stopped sliding, various parts of his left side were adorned by scrapes of various depths. Blood seeped into his fur, and, for a long while, he’d simply laid on the ground and stared up at the sky overhead. It was the realization that he hadn’t died that had prompted him to sit up and tend to his wounds the best that he could by cleaning them. After that, the rest of his journey to the grove was slowed and agonizing, each step forward having pulled at the now sensitive skin.

Walking along flatter lands had offered him some relief, but still did he wince every so often. To search for the bark of a willow tree hadn’t even crossed his mind, the need to return to the group having clouded his thoughts. Yet, as he’d reached the fringes of the territory and spotted a glimpse of a familiar face, he’d paused. Muttering something to himself, he’d eventually proceeded towards her with a quick chuff, trying his hardest to keep the soreness felt from reaching his face—which he had not succeeded at.