Redsand Canyon So take the good stuff, honey

Tierra tried to vouch for the stranger and offer herself as a guard, but that did little to sway the over-protective soldier. He still didn't like any of this one bit. This was not a place for strays to heal; it was a military outpost. Though, they had drifted farther from that title the longer they were here. 

The man seemed to resume consciousness but only briefly. Enough time to offer a name, his thanks, and his apology. Then he was out again, crumpling to the ground from his injured leg. 

Aquene pushed back, refusing to accept his decision. She was worried he would die if left alone, and he wanted to remind her that it wasn't their problem. It was cold, he knew, but it was necessary. As a healer, she wasn't able to see past helping an injured wolf, and he understood that. But this was dangerous. And then she said something she knew he wouldn't allow—that she would carry the man if he didn't. He didn't care that the man hadn't shown signs of aggression, it had only been seconds that he was awake. There was no way to know if he was playing them or not. 

But it seemed he would be forced to do something he didn't agree with. He wasn't about to let his wife carry the injured stranger; he wanted her as far away from him as possible. Dammit, Aquene, he said after a moment. He was obviously furious about this. He released an angry sigh but moved to the man anyway. It would be easier for him to carry the weight alone then try to coordinate movements with Tierra. So he lowered himself and slipped his head under that unconscious man, scooting him to his shoulders before thrusting him onto his back. He would offer only a disgruntled look to his wife before moving over the borders, towards the tablinum.