Swiftcurrent Creek I make mountains out of stones

A call reached his ears. One for the help of a caregiver. He trotted towards the sound at a brisk pace, hoping that it's nothing too bad. Every medic hopes that when they approach the scene.
It was a den, the scents swirled about. Pups. His coat was dripping with rain when he approached Dawn, lowering his head to see if there is an obvious injury.
"I'm Sherigrim. What's wrong?"
The poor woman looked exhausted. Perhaps the birth was difficult and no one called for help because she didn't let them close.

He crouched down, looking within to see if there was an obvious problem with her pups. Perhaps one was deformed and she didn't want anyone to see. His sympathetic gaze crossed to her, listening to her cause of concern.