Shadewood there is a bear in the wound

Riley’s ministrations could hardly be called expert — but he tried his best as Masque sunk closer to the ground. It was a new experience for him — he tried to be gentle, but even then some of his work elicited wincing. This made his heart twist with guilt, but he pragmatically remembered it was necessary. He could not risk losing her to infection.

As he worked, he listened. Masque explained she’d been — in all retrospects — ambushed. This tripped some alarms in Riley; why would a wolf just randomly attack, no words? He tried to think of what would justify this. Had she somehow trespassed? Even this thought he put aside, for Masque was more than capable of using her nose.

He paused as the verdict of Masque’s assailant reached his ears.

Dead?

A savage pride for his mate came to life within his chest. He had no scruples about defending oneself. All the same, he worried — worried for what this might mean for their future. What if this wolf had a pack? What if they discovered the body and tracked Masque back to the Shadewood. Or worse yet, what if this wolf was gravely ill?

Good. Riley set his cleaning aside a moment, measuring the gilded stare of his mate. Are you okay? He did not mean physically— that much he could see — but he worried for the parts of Masque he could not see, and would never know unless she showed him.