Flycatcher Downs if i ever leave, i could learn to miss you

alamar? his voice is muffled by the weasel in his jaws, tight with pain but wavering slightly with relief at the sight of his companion. it feels odd, running to him for help; it's been a long time since he's done that, even with something as small as this. but he'd promised to try. he winces as he moves toward @Alamar, heavily favoring his bloodied left foreleg, and drops the twisted weasel at his feet. i-i tripped over a rock... asking for help — that's a weird one, awkward and unfamiliar, so he avoids it. this is already foreign territory, a tentative first step forward. and after spending so much time forcing this kind of care on him, surely alamar can manage filling the gaps here.