Bramblepoint The view from halfway down

He stiffened when he heard something approaching, though the ringing in his ears persisted alongside the throb of each heartbeat. He lifted his chin to see a grey figure approaching, recognizing him instantly (in spite of how blurry his vision was) by his sea-blue eyes and reddish tail. Blood gurgled in his throat when he inhaled, setting his chin back on the ground. Shock kept his pain dulled, but failed to solve the throbbing in his head. Merely the man's presence reassured him that the tiger was gone, though he had little hopes that he might ever see his home again. At least he wouldn't die alone.

Njord's words took a moment to sink in, and he tried to clear his throat. He coughed faintly, and a trickle of blood ran down his jawline. "Y- not old -nuff. Call me 'son.'" A paper-thin coping mechanism, when he felt fear begin to seep in. He didn't know the stranger, but he smelled of Moonspear, and of Meerkat. Perhaps this was the husband she'd mentioned, the last time he'd seen her- though it had been so long ago that the assumption felt wrong to make. The man gathered something green, something Bronco eventually recognized was moss. 

He thought to request that Njord send word to Brecheliant, as he hadn't the strength to howl- but he felt selfish asking such a thing when the concern should be placed elsewhere. "others?" He asked feebly. Frolic had been here- and the other child, too. How had the white wolf fared, and the coyote that had run away?