Moonstone Quarry If this is what you call love

he gave her no indication that he was conscious, but deirdre knew better than to not treat him as such. she, in her own dreamless slumber after the incident with the motherbear, sometimes could catch things from the outside world... but there were other times when she heard nothing at all, her mind working to repair itself. to narrate to him what was occurring felt like the best thing she could do for this stranger in this very moment. the girl, nearly a yearling now, drew near to breathe him in; the scents upon him were many, but not a one could be related to any wolf at all. it was likely he had crossed some waterbed to be here which would certainly confuse the scents; he simply smelled of here, and deirdre furrowed her brow with concern as she looked upward. blood stained some of the stone, and she was distracted from her train of thought--she looked back to the marked man, shivering with the cold, and peered toward muses.

we will be flipping you over to inspect the other side of you, she informed, her eyes not leaving the figure of muses. she drifted toward his shoulders, the scent of blood more evident, now. deirdre's muzzle drifted near his spine, which she pushed gently against to see if there was any damage done there. one limb seemed to twitch strangely at her prodding, but, she suspected, it was not due to his spine. in knowing that it was well intact, deirdre murmured briefly to muses to assist her with the task so that damien would not thud against the earth any more than he likely had.

the going was slow, and careful. the stranger did not react, and once he was on his other side deirdre was able to assess him further. much of him had stone embedded within his skin. his tender cheek, his shoulders, his sides, his legs... the stone had bitten him savagely as he had dragged against it. it was painful to look at, and she whispered a quiet prayer of thanks that he could not feel this then! deirdre stood near his face for a moment, looking to his closed eye--truly, he was lucky that no stone embedded itself in the soft skin around his eye, or even the eye itself. she continued to look at the rest of him. all of his wounds were superficial, except for his rear leg which hung strangely. sniffing at it, and testing the limb (very gently) with her fangs, deirdre knew it was not broken. his shoulder was dislocated; they, before leaving here, would have to set it back in place.

her eye then fell upon a peculiar part of him, and her head tilted. he had what looked to be the sun embedded on his 'healthy' shoulder, and deirdre found a name for this man. ghian, she hummed, we will work here with what we have, for now--and then, we will take you to donnelaith. it is there you must heal, for we do not know where it is you have come from. winter comes, we will not leave you here to die in the chill. my companion and i will remove the gravel from your skin once i find what it is i need to stop the wounds from bleeding. we will clean them with our tongues. it may be painful, unless the Old Ones have blessed you still with pleasant numbness, which might be the case, as he lay here with his eyes closed. keep him warm until i return--i will investigate the woods, she instructed and informed, moving to drift into the weald and leaving damien with muses for a brief time. she would not be straying far, and should muses make a peep deirdre would surely hear it.