Bearclaw Valley wounds inflicted by reason

The healer emerged from the black den, weary and bedraggled in the moonlight — a sure mile off the vital young wolf who'd flown in to break up the fight only hours hitherto. Ico hadn't much noticed earlier, but this male had a physicality that was starkly different to the other Ursus wolves he'd met thus far. In fact, more than any of those bristling powerhouses, he looked a lot more like... Ico. But with a more confident and rooted presence.

Hullo... the boy said softly, continuing his gradual approach. He noticed that the healer was wet, adding to the look of a man who'd been through the ringer. I'm Ico. Is everyone... how's everyone doing?