Neverwinter Forest The Flesh Failures

Had to happen eventually!

With the cold of night had come a small sprinkling of snow just along the borders of the forest, though the ground within the forest itself was bare still, protected by the evergreens that kept their pack sheltered and safe. Shrike padded along the borders, through the thin layer of snow leaving behind a perfect set of pawprints that showed the ground. As it was, there was no way for him to see what the ground looked like, so when he mistakenly trod upon a puddle that had frozen overnight and then been covered by the snow, he'd slipped, both front legs going sideways before he could catch himself and he landed hard with his chin on the ground, biting through his lip with one sharp canine tooth. Blood droplets stained the snow, melting through to the ground. 

He groaned slightly and carefully tried to gather his legs beneath him, wincing as he put weight on his right forefoot. Still somewhat dazed, he looked down, to see that it had already begun to swell up and throb with pain. Whether it was a sprain or a break, he couldn't tell, as he was no medic. He could still move his toes faintly, so he assumed his leg wasn't broken, but his ankle had begun to swell up quickly, so it was hard to say exactly what he'd done. It frustrated him, more than anything, to know he'd somehow managed to make himself lame just as winter had begun to creep in. Carefully, he shuffled himself off the covered ice, looking at it ruefully, before he began to limp back into the packlands, moving on three feet and holding the right forepaw up off the ground.