Blackwater Islands It all falls into the sea.

When there was no answer, she decided to toss caution aside and enter regardless. What she found was a wolf who, despite lack of serious apparent injury, seemed to be on death's door.

The medic took in his state in a cursory, practiced glance. There were a few things that could be factors; illness, hunger, thirst. One of these was more dangerous than the others and she figured she could at least do that much. Casting around in the vicinity, she found what she was looking for fairly quickly; a semi-large shell. The beach had some useful things. She'd have to grab something like this to take with her if she ever managed to leave this place.

It took her a few attempts to fill it and keep a portion of the water long enough to fetch it back, but eventually she got the hang of it.

If she was overstepping, she didn't care. No medic could, in good conscience, leave another wolf to suffer like this.

She did her best to gently tip his head, wondering if this would wake him. If it didn't then she would work to pour the water into his muzzle herself, stroking the throat to discourage choking. The faeries had not been strangers to poppies and she knew the dangers of treating a wolf who was lost to it. She'd nursed a few back to health.