Nimbus Summit and that hell had carved its name on his bones.

oOoOoO hello!

Hushed footsteps drew his wheat-gold orbs upwards, straightening to his full height as he watched the alabaster warwife approach -- wound forgotten momentarily. A quick flicker of his eyes drank her in, a hint of curiosity evident in their depths. She was an even match to the colossal Peacemaker's size, perhaps just a hair more muscular, but that did not make the ivory shieldmaiden unfeminine or unattractive. 

It was true that the outlaw had been raised amongst the rough-and-tumble brotherhood of the war orphans, with Kynareth's influence to shape him as they came into manhood no less, but that did not mean that he had no respect for the fairer sex. 

A gentlemanly grin found its way to Matias' lips, "Hola." His head dipped in greeting slightly. Before he could say anything else, a distant clanking and rattling reached his auds -- which swivelled alertly in the direction of the sound. 

The direwolf rose to his paws at the odd noise, keen silvers peering into the fog as lips parted and he drew in a breath to taste the air for scents. Then a man unlike any other he'd seen, adorned and decorated in an assortment of bones and sticks that clicked to accentuate the medicine man's every move. 

The Stormborne leveled the blood-smeared man with an appraising gaze, uncertain what to make of his eccentric appearance, and then looked down at the gash in question which still bled faintly. 

"I have no infection; the wounds are half-scar as is," he rumbled after a moment correctively, though not unkindly. "But, if you have any cobwebs perhaps, I could use a bandage to stop the bleeding." 

"Damn coyote wanted to fight over a winter hare," the Sergeant tutted with vague bemusement, not too worried. It was a bit irksome but he'd suffered worse - as the Lichtenburg scars twisted along his back revealed. 

"And thank you, Vein," he added with a nod, proffering his own name after a moment, "I am Matias Trujillos."