Ouroboros Spine no one wakes up one day

he takes the slope with careful steps, shifting his weight to his rear legs so he didn't go toppling down it face first. he listens to her, his attention displayed by the crook of his ear in her direction, but offers no attempts to communicate verbally in return. she assures him that she knows he could do it on his own — and oddly enough he feels reassured — speaking of the fall. the fall. the injuries he bears that have nothing to do with the fall. he didn't get the injuries on his face or his neck and throat from rocks ...but of course he has no answers as to why he woke up bleeding and wounded anymore than he did for how and why he'd tumbled from the ledge — or the other wolf for the matter who'd clearly drawn the shortest stick.

he releases a soft breath, a non-verbal communication that he liked the saying she shared with him, accented by a wag of his tail. they reached the water without much trouble — well he reached it without much trouble but he suspected having her shoulder to lean on was probably a fair contributor to that fact — and he pauses at the water's edge, salmon pink tongue drawing across his jowls as he peers down at his distorted reflection finding that the rough looking face with icy eyes that stared back at him was just as much as a stranger as the two women that made it their mission to help him.

he tries to bow his head down towards the water instinctively and lets out a soft pant of pain and eventually lowers himself down onto the soft bank, inching closer to the water's edge with a soft huff. when close enough he leans his muzzle down and laps at the water greedily even as the pain radiates from the wounds with each swallow. but he doesn't care. he feels like a man that's been stranded in the desert for days and finally found that elusive watering hole and has realized that, by some miracle, it wasn't a mirage.

he lifts his head from the water with a ragged breath, from the need to catch it, from the pain as she calls out to him. hungry? was he? the pain stole away most of his appetite even before he realized chewing and swallowing all worked over the muscles beneath his wounds. her and reiko could heal his wounds, sure, but his psyche and the recovery speed ...that was all dependent on him so he offers her a small nod. he couldn't promise he'd eat much but eating something had to be better than nothing at all.