Redhawk Caldera See the line where the sky meets the sea, it calls me

As the minutes ticked past, Elwood peered anxiously at his son's mouth. The boy had calmed considerably, and even appeared to be waiting patiently for Raven's assistance. But while Elwood knew she was reliable, he was also aware that she wasn't always available at his beck and call -- so when she didn't seem to be on her way, he assumed she was out of range and that he would have to take matters into his own hands.

Luckily, the flow of blood seemed to have slowed. "Let me take a look," he said, leaning closer to his son's bloodied muzzle. "Raven might not be around; but she probably would just tell you to be careful when eating and drinking for a few days, while it heals. How does it feel?" he asked. At least Lagan already had a lisp, so any speech impediment resulting from the injury would probably go unnoticed.

He guided his son to a place where he could rest, then stayed close for the next couple of hours, making sure that the wound didn't reopen. By that evening, Elwood had determined that Lagan would be just fine, as the boy slept soundly with the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth.