The Heartwood Running down the halls

He moved away from her attempt to clean his wounds, stating that it was his fault for not killing the blackfeather woman. She wanted to tell him differently, that it had been her fault for approaching the stranger in the first place, especially given how close in proximity they were to the woman's territory. The thought renewed her fear, and she glanced around anxiously, her mind assaulting her with images of more enemy wolves coming back to finish the job. Another more pressing problem was the blood continuing to ooze from his wounds; it worried the healer greatly. She needed cobwebs or moss and silently cursed herself for not keeping one of her old caches stocked for such a situation. She urged herself to think beyond her crushing panic. Think dammit. And then she remembered the creek that ran through the scorched forest. There had to be moss there, she silently pleaded. She looked back to her protector, anxiety twisting her usually cheerful face. I need to leave you for only a few minutes. I need to stop your bleeding but what I need is back by the water. She got to her feet, shooting him one last worried glance and unless he stopped her, she ran back towards the water.

Luckily, it didn't take her too long, even with her injury protesting angrily to every movement she made. She skidded to a stop near the partially frozen stream, her front paws sinking into the frigid water. Frantically, she searched for what she needed and began to panic again when she couldn't find it. She move through the icy water, completely ignoring her own health until finally she found what she had come here for. She sighed in relief as she spotted the moist, green plant covering a bolder just a little farther down stream. She bolted to the stone, and ripped off as much of the plant as she could possibly carry. 

Wasting no time, she sprinted back to her packmate and took her spot at his side again. Panting from pain and exertion, She dropped her mouthful and looked at him again. I need to put this on your wounds. I'm sorry, it's going to hurt' and I don't have anything here for pain, she explained. Once I stop the bleeding, I need you to try and get up. We need to get out out of here and get closer to home, she urged. She didn't think they would be able to make it all the way home now, but she would feel much better if they at least moved from this place. 

She picked up a chunk of the moss and looked to his face, warning him of what was about to come. If he let her, she would place it on the wound with the most blood seeping out first, hopefully stopping staunching the flow.