Blackfeather Woods bruised by god

was going to wait for rel to reply again buuuuuuuuuut

Kove was not the first to find the battered woman, nor did he see her abuser. He’d been away at the borders, trailing the southernmost reaches of the territory and marking where his scent had begun to fade. Nothing drew him away from his post nor lured him towards the duo, nothing aside from luck; he did not rush, not even as he spotted the pair, the scene concerning only because there was a trespasser and the traces of an enemy.

He was slow in his approach, coming up alongside his packmate, at whom he nodded; he thought to ask who the other woman was, yet the words would not form after he turned his gaze to her, eyeless sockets the first thing to be noticed. His body grew rigid and his lip twitched, a silent snarl threatening to break his normally stoic features, for the sight and the scent combined were too much. It was a sign, a message, that made him lose rationally for a brief moment and seek to tear from the deserters their throats—

—but he did not do so, nor even rush off to try and trail after the male that had entered his land. He focused on the girl instead, though his voice was meant for Relmyna: “Clean her up and treat her wounds.” Though Blackfeather was far from a sanctuary, Kove was not some bloodthirsty monster, nor would he leave someone to sit and suffer when they had done nothing awful to him.