Northstar Vale the patron saint of disconnection

Stale, dried blood reached his nose on the cold breeze. It did not smell of something that could be a meal though. It caused worry to build up within him. He softly padded on light paws towards the direction of the scent. Athris soon realized that that had not been his best decision. A large male with a swarthy coat and fiery eyes. He had been the one to harbor the bloody scent. If the creature was in a fighting mood, Athris would surely be beaten with one swift move. So he tried to swallow the lump that had appeared in his throat and focus on what good this meeting could bring.

Do you need a healer? His voice wavered slightly but Athris stayed rooted to his spot, position neutral but teetered on submissive. Perhaps he was not the best and his supplies of what to work with in these conditions was certainly limited but...well, maybe if he offered to help the beast wouldn't eat him.