Blacktail Deer Plateau do I cool it or do I blow

one corner of his mouth twitched as she spoke. clearly, she had not lost her fire, even with this bothersome injury. "i can see that," he shot back, voice brimming with humor but still kind. he glanced at the wound. it was deep, but with the right care, it should heal. "i'm not touching it until pema gets here. i'm not risking it getting infected. sticks won't kill you, but infections will."

he knew that much, at least. one wolf adi had known several seasons back had gotten into a spat with a cougar--or was it a coyote?--and had returned to their impromptu campsite bloodied and bruised, but otherwise unscathed. unscathed, at least until one of the slashes festered and he died of a fever.

pema arrived on the scene, as always the calm voice of reason in the scenario. he stood up gently, not wanting to jostle dawn in even the slightest manner; doing so could aggravate her pain. "tell me what you need and i'll go," he assured her, nodding his head.

his face drew into a distorted scowl as he looked at the wound. blood oozed and trickled scarlet around the stick, turning her flank into a matted red mess.