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In one moment the massive branch - like the limb of Atlas descending - was drawing closer. Larus stood in a state of petrified awe, until a force of equal strength slammed in to him. He was shoved out of the way just in time, and was saved. But the entity which saved him received the blow instead. Sputtering uselessly as he tried to regain control of himself, the boy's fear manifested in a frenzied spasm; and absently, his back paws kicked at the firmly lodged limb.
He was up and staring at the fallen branch with a mixture of surprise and worry, and that was when he saw the dark figure of the man. The boy recognized Spyridon in the way that any pack wolf would recognize a fellow pack wolf. And, upon noticing the slouch of his body, Larus' worries grew.
You're hurt!
He chirruped upon advancing, his eyes as wide as saucers. Y-you saved me!
He was overwhelmed by his adrenaline, so his voice rose in pitch until he was nearly shrieking. I.. I.. What do I do?!