Bearclaw Valley I know my love can be the killing kind

Evien watched the boy's expression and smiled a bit when he nodded his head. The healer turned then and grabbed a clump of dry moss, dipping it into the spring in the middle of the room until it was saturated. He'd bring it over to the pup and sit it in front of his nose, so he didn't have to stretch too far. 

"You can drink from that," he explained, scanning over the plaster he'd put across the tiny, broken ribs. He wanted to check it again, but he knew he shouldn't mess with it. The ribs would heal on their own, with that added stability. It was just a matter of time. 

Merrick and Astara would be happy to know their son was not on the verge of death anymore. Being awake was an excellent sign. 

A soft sigh pulled from the chocolate wolf's nose and he settled down in front of the kid once more. "That was brave of you, at the border," he told him, ears angled forward. "But you're still too small to fight like that, okay? You could have been hurt worse." Surely the pup had learned his lesson, the hard way. "She shouldn't have done that to you."