Moonspear the return

Worry rose alongside a sharp ridge of her hackles when her nose quivered over trace of her mate--fresh, and rife with the telltale scents of injury, so she made her haste back towards their confines without so much as a second's pause. His absence, while noted, hadn't concerned her all that much yet.. not until now. Her patrol, effectively abandoned, would have to wait.

Outrunning true panic, her long strides got her to him fast on his way to the rendezvous. She breathed deep the acrid trail he wore, mingled with that of neutral grounds.

He was a mess, far worse than she had seen in a long time. An ache reserved for few knotted up tight by the time she could reach his side, and she didn't have words yet. The whine that hitched up her throat when she saw the extent of it spliced with a low growl: who did this? But, too, was he well? He was already on his way to right where she would send him, to rest and to clean first and foremost. To have him back brought relief, but this? What happened? she grated, while lashing her tail and looking all too eager to urge him on to somewhere safe to rest.

Whatever it had been.. she could taste the malice, and he needed plenty now thanks to it. She reached to nose his shoulder--silent encouragement as the rendezvous neared, and there, he could be tended. Ame would start helping him clean before the medics arrived; Lyra should be by soon, and they had recently gained two new hopefuls in that field too--but she'd test the waters of Charon's sea first before she went summoning strangers to him yet.