Bitterroot Valley a head start in hindsight

"Heh. Yes. Strong." He skulked in place for a half-moment, shifting his weight from side to side, keeping his head low. "Discomfort is nothing. I will trust you, then. If that's what you think." Skífa took a few steps away, turning broadside toward the one-eyed wolf, clearly restless, ready to depart. He was smiling again, all teeth, feeling lighter. Maybe that was the result of having just relieved his stomach again, or maybe it was the worry lifted off his shoulders. He even offered the other wolf a single, friendly tail-wag. Flippantly, he remarked: "If not, I will find you, and make this your problem, eh, Good Healer?"

His smile widened briefly before he lapsed into a sober expression. "Careful with yourself, helping everyone. When you're not the hunter, you're being hunted."

Without lingering further, he shrugged into a south-southwest heading and trotted away. Yet he kept his ears tented backward, listening for the other wolf. Still on guard, even though the encounter had been miraculously in his favor. Just in case.