Swiftcurrent Creek The crow and the butterfly.

Bazi seemed to study one of the golden she-wolf's wounds, and Paar followed the pallid leader's gaze with her own. The injury which caused the limp looked incredibly deep and painful, and at once she was racking through her thoughts in silence for the correct balm to help soothe and begin the healing process. She had not given Scimitar pain-killers, for it was important that he took care in not to ree-open his wound; this one, however, would certainly benefit from a dose of something to ease the ache.

She did not register her Alphess' cursing, for she was so caught up in her own thoughts of how to tackle this tricky injury. Paarthurnax was a skilled healer, but she could not work miracles. If the tendons had been damaged, it was very possible that this wolf would walk with an uneven gait for the rest of her life. When introductions were made, the rusty medic blinked back to reality, and dipped her muzzle politely with a warm smile for her wounded pack-mate. And then Bazi moved as though to stabilise her, and Danica eyed her nervously while spouting that she felt fine.

Paarthurnax did not proceed at first, but whined softly and looked up at her companion's face. "Let me help," she mustered, almost a question, and waited patiently.