Swiftcurrent Creek deadly light

Alexander was no fool, he did not expect every wolf that he encountered to feel so inclined as to strike up a conversation with him. Some ran and hid, others tried to stand their ground and fend him off, but to fall out? That was a new one. As soon as it happened his muscles tensed, wary but curious—and that curiosity triumphed over all else, pushing him towards her with slicked back ears. He kept his body low, cautious, as he advanced towards her, the reason for her sudden downfall not yet discovered; to even think that he was the cause was something he could not do, thinking it to be an impossible scenario.

The closer he crept, the more he wondered if she was even alive. Perhaps some mysterious force had struck her down, killing the poor girl before she could realise what was going on. The thought stuck with him for several more steps, up until the point where he could see the quickened rise and fall of her sides. So she wasn’t dead—not yet, anyways. The discovery increased his interest tenfold, drawing him so terribly close that he was all but standing over her, nosing through her fur as he inhaled her scent; he sought the tangy fragrance of blood and anything else that might suggest she was wounded, but came up empty. Externally, there was nothing wrong with her—so why the hell did she just fall over like that?

Shaking his head, he took a step back—he continued to hover over her, staring the girl down with a hawkish gaze—and said, “Hey.” He was quiet, the word stretched out, trying to get her back up and moving without startling her. Although, that same soft tone didn’t last for very long. “Hey, get up,” he ordered, taking a step forward and lowering his head so that he could nudge her. “What happened? What are you doing? Get up!” He might as well become a nurse with how wonderful his bedside manners so clearly were.