Sleepy Fox Hollow Gain the weight of you, then lose it

wylla stood; mahler helped to gather her up, nudging the woman here and there, steadying her with a muttered word of his tongue. he watched in sympathy as her wound tore; he promised her that the waters would be bracing.
the pace he set for the two of them was slow. each time wylla could go no further, they paused, but mahler did not let his determination leave him. she had found the strength to stand. he would find the skill to mend her.
phaedra he gave a low chuff as they passed; she would find their trail and know where he had taken her mother.
the scent of infection coiled hauntingly against his nostrils.
mahler coughed, once, unrelated to the ichorous tang, and smothered it with a hum.
they came to the stream; he helped her to its edge. "take your time, vylla."
the short journey had lengthened; it had unraveled whatever energies she had left.
mahler stepped into the stream and began to sluice water over her shoulder, loosing the pus and the syrup that clung in a horrid patch to her tangled fur. slow work; he rushed neither of them, and helped her to recline near the bank.
touching muzzle to cheek, watching her for a moment. "i must find more of the medicine."
resistant. mahler did not want to leave her.