Whitefish River this is how we heal:

He came only because Aure would have the latest news on Dragomir. He feared the worst. But upon seeing her face, still pained but not panicked, he relaxed a fraction, though dread remained in his stomach. Verx bore her touch, settling down on his haunches with a rattling sigh, staring at some invisible point past her slender shoulder.

The brute was silent for a moment, chewing his words before he spat them out, slowly.

How is he? Vercingetorix asked, nodding toward the direction where his -- their -- son lay. He must be fine, otherwise there would be much ado around the site.

Well. . .relatively fine. Would Drago ever be fine again?