Neverwinter Forest mod is þæt þonne mæg

raedwulf endures it in silence, though his jaw tightens under cicero’s hands. not from pain—he’s long learned to swallow that—but from frustration at the body's weakness. still, he does not flinch. does not squirm. he stays.
his eyes flick to the healer’s, catching the look. he does not know the words spoken, but the tone cuts clear. scolding. disapproval. like a mother fussing over a reckless boy.
he snorts—dry, amused. a corner of his mouth lifts into a tired, yet charming smile.
he watches the poultice being worked in, watches the care in it. the dark-furred man has paws that know the weight of life. they are so harshly unlike his own. raedwulf’s hands take. cicero’s give. he frowns momentarily at the thought, turning gaze to the healer. ic ġefeoht. þū hǣlst. þus lybbað wit. and how unfortunate that his words are lost on the ears.
he pauses, studying cicero again—this odd, dark-furred man with the sharp hands and sharp eyes. where does he come from? he does not speak the tongue of the red man. if he had, raedwulf might understand him in even some capacity. he is forced to figure out his intentions with context solely.
suddenly, he moves his paw, to make a grab for his face. to tilt it sideways, to get a better look at him. cicero is forced to stop his pampering of the wound and raedwulf feels his warm breath upon his thick, northern-shaped paw. his eyes drag then to the thin, mangled leg attached to his hip. wǣre þū swā ācenned? gesturing then to the leg with a jerk of his head.