Hoshor Plains and i'm sorry that i lie when i talk to you

Alive.

Evergreen's heart pounds; the relentless drumming of it pulses in his ears. Whatever fear rising in his throat is swallowed down, pushed aside in favor of roaming his imperfect vision over the stranger in search of any physical injury. It is obvious the other is beyond exhausted. Appearance lacking any care, and Evergreen thinks of how less he's cared for his own.

The stranger's head rises, and he looks as if he might speak. Yet soon enough, it is as if any strength left is taken from him. A gentle whine escapes Evergreen, following the male's own.

Are you hurt anywhere? He doesn't see any injuries, and doesn't smell any blood, but he has to make sure.