Noctisardor Bypass [m] The taste of liquor on your lips

Making some assumptions about injuries from the raid~

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What wretched timing.

Wylla was still nursing her hurts from the invasion, both emotional and physical. She was still so angry that no one else had turned up to fight the intruders with her, no matter how many times she was told that the two she fought were not the only ones who came. Their strength was divided. She tried to tell herself it wasn't personal that she had been left to fight alone. Mostly, she was still sore, her wounds still raw, and her pride as well. It would take time for all of those things to heal.

Time waited for no wolf, though. When she woke with a familiar heavy and amorous feeling in her veins and the smell of fresh blood in her nose, she cursed aloud. Would that she could sleep it off and will it back another day when they were more fit for it! That wasn't how these things worked. She grumbled and rose from the snow to shake out her coat, then pressed her nose to the ground and inhaled deeply, seeking her mate's musk among the others.

So be it then. She had let it pass her by last year in her anger. She would not let it happen again, no matter how bruised and bloodied they were. She feared for a moment that @Mahler might refuse or be too unwell, but she shook it away and began to follow his trail, boldly waving her tail as she went. If anything would cure his hurts, surely it was this?