Phoenix Maplewood Who do you think you are

Wintersbane draws in an uneven breath as he continues on his search, listening to derg's rundown of her injuries. it sounds bad. it sounds as badly as it looked and currently that was pretty damn bad. wintersbane upheaves snow as rapidly as he could, shifting his body so that he faces keen and derg so that they do not get sprayed by flying snow. he knows there has to be moss nearby somewhere —

someone approaches and wintersbane, in the aftermath, in the warlord's fury that seethes in his bones towards whomever had done this to keen, lets out a low warning growl with a bristle of his hackles. he is keen's sotaherra and he will kill for her without a moment's hesitation, without question. to protect her. as he would any other of the vartija wolves; but the woman — not keen's attacker, the scent of her attacker, lingering as it was, is masculine and despite that it's eerily familiar to wintersbane he cannot place how yet — speaks of yarrow and though the tension does not leave the tundrian's shoulders the hostility leaves his glacial gaze as it settles upon the woman — her silvery pelage is windswept, her body lean and streamlined. she is here to help, he tells himself.

moss. i was looking for moss. and while wintersbane is sure he's heard of yarrow before he isn't so sure he knows what it looks like. easily, he could go in search of whatever flower blooms he sees — it's unlikely he'll find many others — but there was too great a risk that he'd pluck something poisonous. i don't know what they look like. he admits to the stranger, claws unearthing a fresh mound of moss, the warm, earthen scent dug up with the last bit of snow. my healing skills are very rudimentary i'm afraid.

he is loathe to leave derg and keen alone with the stranger, despite that she is obviously here to help. i've found moss but if you suggest yarrow over it, help me search for it? the tundrian suggests to the woman, glimpsing between her to derg and keen and back again. two wolves searching for it was better than one, especially if this specific area of the maplewood couldn't provide it.