Qeya River i'm fixing a hole

vilkas's ears slick back against his skull as the stranger admits that she's not a healer and he looks from her back to lily, brow furrowing as he notes the odd angle of her ankle. he thinks to mention it but doesn't. not yet, at least. her broken ankle wouldn't matter if they didn't rouse her to consciousness. the firebrand is out of his depth but there is no time to let the wound that admitting that created to smart. he is immediately frustrated as he feels the pressure of time he fears he does not have bearing down like an unbearable weight on his shoulders. the stranger adds that it seemed what he'd been doing before had been right — and vilkas hopes that her and his instincts are right. he's never not trusted them and thus far they have yet to steer him wrong but this situation, it's severity, his lack of actual and helpful healing knowledge and his feelings for lily — fledgling beyond companionship and friendship — threaten to make him dangerously despondent.

nevertheless, trying to rouse her with licks and nudges seems the only course of action available to him and he resumes the action with a draw of his tongue over her ear, and a nudge of his nose to the corner of her mouth. he is not a gentle creature by nature and though he applies pressure to each nudge he ultimately touches her as if she is a fragile thing that he is terrified of breaking because, currently, probably half drowned and broken she looks pretty damn fragile to him.