Bearclaw Valley Though you can see when you’re wrong

eyes nervously flicker up to the great man hugging tight the woman he presses upon now. his own lips curling back in defensive measure, but not to snarl; a quiet whine forth, and before he can reply, the man's own leader and etienne remind him of manners.

fenrith is still nervous, though, tail flashing anxiously like a waving banner behind his lithe form.

pressure, pressure.

he uses plenty of force now as he presses tight to the wounds, sealing the blood loss, ignoring the pulsing of blood trying to break forth from the dam he's built. his own teeth gritting with the effort.

eyes still flashing nervously here and there up to the wolf safeguarding the injured woman. the warrior erratic with worry for the girl, fenrith didn't trust him not to snap him in half like a twig. she will live. he says quickly, offering words of comfort.

of course he didn't know if what he said was true. but wasn't that what you said to worrywarts in times like these?