Wheeling Gull Isle picks himself up and keeps climbing for the prize again

Mou put him in mind of a wobbly-legged newborn fawn as Driftwood watched those shaky white legs stilting awkwardly forth. It took no more than a few breaths for Mou to slump earthward once again, however, having shifted himself no great physical distance. Driftwood spared a moment to silently admire his fellow wolf's bravery and strength of character; it had to be hard to have to work so much for even these few trembling steps, and yet Mou kept on truckin' regardless, as best as he could. Here, let me help, Tahou, said Driftwood, and matched deeds to words as he slipped up beside and half-under Mou, to assist in hoisting the other back onto those unreliable feet as best as Drift could manage. It shouldn't have to be so terribly hard to move such a tiny span, Driftwood thought with resolute determination, but then, that was what a pack was here for, was it not? Mou might need more assistance than most, at least in his current state, but every wolf had their strengths and weaknesses, and the thing that sent them apart from all the other creatures—or darned well ought to—was that their companions could always, always count on one another to help prop one another up through whatever moments of weakness or uncertainty any one of them might run into.

Come on, it's not much farther, coaxed Driftwood, taking his own strides that were kept as slow and solid and sure as their owner could make them. He'd be like a rock for Mou to lean on; or a drifting log to cling to in uncertain waters, for that matter. The corner of Driftwood's mouth quirked up. He wagged his tail and looked at Mou with mingled encouragement and sympathy both, trying to mentally will him his own strength to freely share. It would take them awhile to get to the water's edge but Driftwood was stolidly resolved that regardless if it took all day and night the two of them could and would manage it—together. He could practically hear the triumphant chords of background music swelling as he assisted the other (howls and the crashes of waves in Driftwood's mind, doubtless, but dangit I'm ttly hearing pieces from Hercules drowning everything else out in his little brain mmkay :P Or Chariots of Fire? hahaha).

It never once even crossed his mind that Mou might not want to go quite that long or far, in reality.