Shadewood in sickness & in health ii

The anger writhing beneath his pelt was an entirely foreign beast, coursing throughout his limbs like wildfire, and yet somehow slowing his pace dramatically. He felt stiff with rage, like his bones were fit to burst under the pressure of whatever fleeting paranoia still lingered within. He was sure they weren't being followed, that much he'd already mulled over and coped with. It was the control he'd lost, forced to further agitate wounds he wasn't even sure were going to heal without the added trauma. The sound Cormorant had made echoed in his mind for hours, ceaselessly like the drumming of an anxious heart. He was so close to crawling in, under the wolfs skin like a parasite, making his home amidst warm scents and tender flesh. So close but now so far, almost welcomed and now pushed away again as they sought another refuge. It made his teeth itch.

Magpie's mind was so fogged in his inner tantrum he hadn't even realized the other had stopped, flinching at the soft meeting of his shoulder to Cormorant's hip. His eyes flicked up, focusing on the others ragged form with a somewhat irked squint. It was sensible he'd be in pain, with hardly a rest between moving and now an obvious sickness wheezing in his lungs. This had all become so much trouble, he almost cursed himself for lashing out back in the swamp, almost.

He scanned the trees bordering the clearing, looking for hollowed logs or thawed soil he could carve into a "home". There wasn't much, nothing easy at least, but a few arching, mossy roots did spark the faintest idea. Keep going. He mumbled sweetly, moving around the wolf and gently shoving his head into a trembling shoulder, coaxing him toward what would ideally be his peace. For them both, of course.