Noctisardor Bypass Life, Death, Religion, Survival

If he had simply left when asked, he wouldn't have needed to defend himself, and in turn wrecked Druid physically. He threw words at her, but Fiona stood her ground calmly until he finally saw fit to do as she asked and leave the scene. Only then did she turn back around to Druid, who had been screaming something about a witch. Fiona, of course, assumed the Den Mother was talking about her. (Unless, of course, Druid revealed Witch's name in their other ongoing thread, hah.)

Now that she could focus on who actually needed the attention, Fiona saw just how badly Druid was hurt. Her mouth was bleeding heavily, and she was favoring one of her front legs somehow. She was a complete disaster, and this was going to set her back a lot. Fiona checked her over, keeping her own emotions in check as she tried to gather exactly what had happened and how.

Do you want to stay here for a little while and rest, or would you rather try and walk to the den? Fiona asked. Druid was conscious, if not entirely with it, and she was already standing, albeit on three legs instead of four. The witch wasn't even entirely sure how she would treat her wounds just yet. The leg would need rest—that one was simple enough—but her mouth was going to be more difficult. She imagined Druid would need to be fed chewed-up meat like a pup, not exactly the step to freedom Fiona had imagined would be best for her.