Ravenshook Cliffs false sun

@Deirdre

He stalked along the coast, a dark smear marring the otherwise pale, windy coastline. The rough winds pulled at his fur, tugging it in all different directions. He didn't mind until the salt saw fit to find its way into the wound on his forelimb, an ugly fresh cut that left a trail of blood wherever he went. The boar that had inflicted it had gotten away but not without its own fair share of injuries.

Gristle snarled as it stung painfully, pausing to lick at it. He thought to the strange, black-eyed woman, wondering if she was near to help him with this. He wasn't too familiar with healing, but knew all too well that such fresh wounds could quickly become fatal if left untreated.