Shadow Mountain This Trecherous Safety

Hanze watched as the wolf tried to reanimate his battered limbs. Beneath all the trauma of a quick descent, there was a long-bodied and lean musculature about him, and despite the pitiful display, Hanze knew that this wolf was strong. Handsome, too, he thought jealously. Some wolves had all the luck and yet still couldn't watch where they were going. Maybe they all thought they were too beautiful to be careful. Or maybe good looks made up for bad brains. 

At least when the fallen wolf spoke again it was in a language he understood.

Hanze, he replied brusquely to the icewater male and sat neatly beside him. You're dazed and a little banged up, but you aren't bleeding and nothing seems broken. He hadn't screamed or anything when trying to move his limbs, anyway, which was a good sign. Just rest a moment, he half-demanded, half-scolded. Get your bearings first.

Hanze cared, but he wasn't exactly nice about it.