Duskfire Glacier Failures are inevitable [M]

If one were to ask if Tzila was upset with Rye over their impassioned night, she would have asked in turn, 'Are you crazy? Of course not.' While un-expected, she could truthfully say that she had enjoyed the time they spent together nearly two weeks ago. In fact, the ruddy draped woman rather liked the earthen male. He was good company. Honest and sincere. Passionate and driving. That phrase he had uttered to her, words of faith passed on from another, still rung clear in her head. With a slight smile, she huffed pleasantly. His optimistic outlook was almost infectious. 

She had been meaning to catch up with him. To get a few minutes alone, to discuss some things. She found that she had gotten a little too caught up in staying busy, in monitoring the on goings within the pack. Her brows pinched. She really should set aside some time for more personal, one on one visits with everyone. Her train of thought was broken by the clattering of rocks and a shout. Her ears pricked up in alarm. That was Rye's voice. Coming from the forest, where the terrain was composed of treacherous stone, sloping downward. A disaster waiting to happen for those that weren't sure of foot.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she whirled, hurtling through the forest. Under her breath she released panicked swears. Rye was down there, hurt! The father of some of the children growing inside her. She couldn't risk losing him now. Duskfire Glacier couldn't afford losing him. The blood in the air further tightened the knot in her stomach. He was injured. Arriving short of the downgrade of the earth from which he had tumbled, Tzila's dark head peeked over the edge, silver eyes wide with alarm. "Rye! Shit. Damnit, hold on!" He was on his side, conscious but not able to stand. 

Before she would risk herself and inspect the damage, she took control. @Lane and @Iana, the packs medics, came to her thoughts instantly. @Wintersbane as well. The two females were slight of build and they would need a sturdier figure to assist in supporting Rye's weight. She threw back her head and released a bellowing howl of urgency. While no skilled medic, Tzila did know some basics. She was a hardened, self-taught survivalist, after all. Hastily, she grabbed a nearby clump of moss - an easily accessible tool used to hold off bleeding - and clambered down the rocks as quickly as she could, without cutting a paw open. Silently, she thanked herself that she was still so early into her pregnancy, keeping her figure on the trimmer side. Kneeling beside him, she deposited the moss, but did not apply it. His injury could just be a flesh wound. Or muscle could be involved, or worse, organs damaged. He may even have some broken ribs. This, was beyond her area of expertise. "Hold tight. Focus. Breathe, Rye. Help is coming." She urged, pressing in to nudge his cheek, consoling.