Porcupine Ridge We are hope

Looking for Morningsiders to find him and maaaybe bring them home with them, since he's hurt!

Burr bounced down the mountainside, yelping loudly each time his svelte body contacted the rough ground. He tumbled tail over teakettle, disoriented, until he came to an abrupt stop against a large spur of rock jutting out of the rugged slope. His paw and leg met the broad side first, then the rest of his body at an awkward angle that ended with a sharp pop and a piercing screech of agony that would surely carry for several miles.

He hadn't foreseen this possibility when he left Easthollow several days ago in search of Rowana, who had up and disappeared. Burr had never had an injury in his life save the scrape that Valette had left on his scruff, which was long gone now, so of all the scenarios he had considered, being injured while alone in the mountains wasn't one of them. Being kidnapped, sure. Being chased by a bear or puma, certainly. Getting lost, yes, but he knew how to follow his own scent trail. But truthfully, Burr thought it would be a fairly simple trip—after all, he was big and strong now. And someone had to go look for his pain-in-the-neck sister, and that someone was him.

But he hadn't once thought it would end like this. It seemed he had a little more to learn about considering all possibilities.

Gritting his teeth, the juvenile tried to push himself up from the rock, but the moment he pressed any weight down on his ankle, searing pain shot through his whole forearm into his shoulder and he crumpled weakly. "Ow, ow, ow, ow!" he yammered, sinking with a sharp whistle of a whine to his belly and staring tearfully at his forepaw, which was twisted at an angle that seemed all wrong. He felt faint just looking at it.