Heron Lake Plateau Lost some pieces we can't replace

After seeing Quixote alongside the lake and finding one of the two crabs she and Tegan had brought back- albeit in very poor condition- she'd cracked the bottom shell, eaten the inside and had used the top shell of the crab as a ladel. She'd scooped up a bit of water, and very carefully, carried it back toward her den, moving at a slow pace so she spilled as little as possible. The shell would have held about as much as a wolf would generally drink in one go, but not more than that, and not quite that much if she spilled some. She tried to keep her head as steady as possible, and stared over the shell's lip down to the ground, eyes half-crossed so she could make sure she wasn't going to trip on anything. 

Getting into her den was the hardest part. She ducked her head, but the movement caused the water to slosh and spill a few droplets at her feet. She grimaced, and proceeded with caution, moving into her den at a crouch to where the ceiling became a bit higher ad gave her more room to stand. She'd have to woek on the entrance-way to her den; no one needed to crawl on their belly just to get to the comfortable part of their den- but then again, she felt safer with a smaller door. 

Screech hadn't moved. She set the shell down to sniff over him, ruffling the pile of feathers about him gently with her breath. She'd cleaned all the pond and marsh stink off him, so he simply smelled like Screech. She agonized to see his sides, though; how many days had it been now? She'd lost count. It was too many for her liking, and she hated knowing that he'd only get thinner and thinner. She couldn't force him to eat, after all, and she wasn't even sure she could make him drink, either. 

"You're probably gonna hate me for this, fucker," She said, stepping over him so that she could tilt his head back a bit, with his muzzle pointing up in the air. It was hard to get him to keep it that way so she pushed feathers around his face to help hold it just so. The next part made her scowl. "I kinda hate me for this too." She said, and paused for a minute. She gingerly placed one paw on the very tip of his muzzle- not caring, really, if it made it harder for him to breathe for a second, and she grabbed his lower jaw with the tenderest motion with her mouth, teeth sheathed by her lips, and pulled down. His mouth opened, but as soon as she let go, it fell shut again. She tried this a couple times until she finally gave up, and pushed his head to the side, back to where it had been before. 

"This is gonna work," She said, and scooted the clamshell of water a bit closer. She couldn't pour the water directly down his throat, it seemed- which was probably not a good idea anyway because she didn't know if he'd have much of a gag reflex, or if he'd cough while unconscious. Instead, she picked up the clamshell, put one foot on the side of his muzzle and pulled to the side, lifting his lips so that his teeth showed. In the very least, she could pour the water into his mouth that way, and hope that he swallowed some of it back. She did her best to pour it just into his mouth, across his teeth, but spilled some of it so it ran across the bridge of his muzzle and into his feathery bed. Once the shell was emptied, she dropped it into the feathers, and flopped to the ground beside him. She buried her face in his fur, as she had when she'd first come to when they'd bashed their heads together. 

"This isn't gonna work. I'm sorry, Screech."