Lone Star Mountain my heart has sought a thing i cannot name

stigmata stood back as the snow-beaten male came to life, reanimating stiffly as he seemed to regain some of his bearings. the hound of iron wondered if anything was broken - if he would be able to make it. he wasn't against helping a fellow wolf, but only if they were capable of returning the favor sooner rather than later. he was likely not a wolf that would tend to the broken-limbed, because he didn't see the worth in it. sentimentality be damned. if it were him, he thought he'd rather be put down.

for now, the fallen wolf wasn't screaming in pain, so that was either a good sign, or a very, very bad one. "these are the diaspora's mountains," he said gravely. "you have fallen, from a great height, i presume. how injured are you, do you feel?" he asked, because priorities first.