Arrow Lake [m] Haven't felt this way since I asked you to go steady

The red of his eyes gleamed like embers as they fixed on the smaller wolf, the tension in his broad shoulders slowly easing as the attacker retreated into the wilds. He didn’t pursue. He’d seen enough cowards to know when one wouldn’t be coming back.

His gaze flicked to the bloodied figure left behind. Panacea’s feigned pursuit had been half-hearted at best, but Tariq hadn’t expected much more from a wolf bleeding that badly. Now, the young one was slumped there, half-tangled in his own limbs, muttering something that sounded like gratitude. Or maybe an attempt at humor.

Tariq tilted his head slightly, his heavy brows furrowing. "You’re welcome, I suppose," he rumbled, his voice carrying the faint lilt of his accent. "Joder, te ves mal."

He moved closer, each step deliberate but nonthreatening, his bulk casting a shadow over the smaller wolf. Up close, Tariq could see the extent of the wounds—a jagged mess across Panacea’s chest. His nose twitched as he crouched down, examining the injury with the clinical detachment of someone used to seeing worse. His ears twitched as he spoke again, voice quieter now but no less firm.

"Lie down. Let me see it." He didn't seem like a man who'd take no for an answer. If Panacea didn't like that idea, he'd just have to make him like it.