Moonstone Quarry If this is what you call love

deirdre had drifted, briefly, from donnelaith alongside @Muses; together, they hunted some weak prey, and they followed its bloodscent doggedly! the thrill of the hunt when the hunter was a lovely thing, but never would deirdre think to dignify the simple necessity of what it was she and her wolves did when they hunted. it seemed the beast they chased had lost an ample amount of blood, and fur-tufts and crimson hue alike stained the trees they weaved through. she thought she could hear it now, and its labored breath--but when they broke through to a small clearing, it was no prey that they came upon together.

what she looked upon was a scarred man, his right lip appearing mangled upon her first look. deirdre came closer, slowly, dust and debris alike now settling, sent forth from the force with which she had slowed, then ceased, her sprint. from a distance, she presumed his shoulder, too, wore an injury, though as she drew nearer she observed the shape to be that of a paw. upon his dark furs it was difficult to see, but her doctors eyes could miss very little. there was something pale he held onto, she noted next, and deirdre drifted toward it to inspect if any teeth of his had broken. but there was no blood upon the blessed moonstone, she observed with relief, and so she moved to inspect the rest of him. the way that he breathed enabled deirdre to know he was not with them in body, but perhaps he could hear...

i am deirdre mayfair, of donnelaith. i have found you, and though your body does not move i am not sure if you are not present in mind. i, and my companion, are inspecting your form to see if you have suffered any breaks... this she must do first, she knew. all she needed to heal him were at home, but if she needed to drag him there--a thought that occurred to her, presently--she must be sure he did not suffer such an ailment near his ribs, lest they puncture a lung or anything within his stomach while traveling, or spine... which would be the swift end of him. we come in peace, she promised, and her eyes fell toward muses as she drew closer to the rear of the wounded stranger. it would be best to begin away from his teeth, to observe any violent involuntary--or, perhaps, voluntary--reactions he may have to her gentle probing.