Otter Creek I don't believe in fate

Pheiros is in bad shape, at least emotionally; Zephyr hasn't gotten a look at his leg yet, but he imagines it can't be good either. Don't look, He commands gently, nudging against him a little more to get him to shift in the right direction. You have to move, to get the pressure off of it, or it won't come out. Or it will come out a different shape than it went in. He leaves that part out, resisting the urge to shudder at the memories of his time in captivity. He'd seen so much suffering...
But now isn't the time for that. He focuses on getting Pheiros to move, and when the angle of the stuck leg seems more natural to him, Zephyr reaches down to gently remove it with his own foreleg, bracing it underneath Pheiros's golden arm just below the elbow and lifting it gingerly from the trap. Sit. He tells him then, turning without pause to push his head gently against the boy's chest and plant himself firmly between him and the offending tree.