Sea Lion Shores A crack in the silver moon

The scratched up silvery brute had mentioned something of the god Neptune. She cocked her head at that, knowing only of her own set, and if that, believing in them at all. Who's Neptune? the otter-like female prodded curiously, leading them away from his spot on the beach and up into the reach of the trees. Settling in the grass, Tethys stood briefly. The wolf was no healer- but the scars on his pelt were still oozing small amounts of blood, and she didn't want her little tree grove to be stained by it.

How bad do those hurt? Tethys motioned with her nose to the scrapes peeking under his ruffled pelt. Perhaps some moss or some leaves could be plastered onto them and keep them from the biting ocean air, and keep the blood in.