Nova Peak If you must leave, leave as though fire burns under your feet

it was worse within the wearing grey light. despite his great love for her, however, mahler put upon the air of the doktor he had become over the years. "vait here," he murmured, limping off to retrieve the satchel he had painstakingly gathered to his recovery cave.
he brought back a mouthful of greenery, but in this moment it was not necessary. the wound had not been cleaned; it clutched at the edge of her smeared socket, and mahler began to cleanse it with the compelled nature of their wolfkind, scrubbing the abrasions and inside edge free of its ageing gore with precise, careful laps of his tongue.
only then did he pause, tucking herbs into his cheek and beginning to chew as he looked down upon wylla. "it vill mend vell." not her eye, that had been lost, but the torn skin, the way it fell around the empty bonehold of her missing orb.