Bitterroot Valley a head start in hindsight

hope you don't mind me?

The dark was coming to an end. Pink and soft purple lit up the sky, the stars faded against the light drop. Were they always there, he wondered, or were they transported somewhere else only to return? He found he didn't care. Walking further from the Glen, he found himself in a dense woodland. The weather was clear enough, but he didn't care about that either. He sought shelter.

But he paused.

The unmistaken scent of sickness caused him to curl his lips. Soon finding the origin - bile in the brambles - he curtly kicked more dirt over it. Movement caught his eye, the distant shape of another wolf walking away from him. But Holland walked toward. Perhaps his steps were a bit rushed, for he soon came near enough to speak to. "Wait" he says to the man simply at first. He pauses in step, tail swishing behind him. 

"Are you unwell?" his words could be seen as blunt if not for the edge of quiet concern. His brows furrowed, glancing back at where he knew the bile to be. "I will leave you be if you want" Holland proclaims slowly "yet I am a healer. I can look you over - should you wish."