Lost Creek Hollow Don't worry, I'll be alright

Dutifully, Ujurak followed at his brother's side. Supporting him with his side should he begin to stagger. There was look of green to his brother's face, so Ujurak stood on Sven's left. Hiding his injuries. 

A shiver went up his legs as he joined Sven in the cold river water. Exhaling to control the chatter of his teeth, Ujurak dunked his head into the water. Forelimb sweeping up and over his face, Ujurak scrubbed as best he could until he needed to resurface. He repeated this twice.

Water trailing down his face, Ujurak strayed only so far as to pluck moss off a nearby stone. Turning back to Sven, Ujurak soaked the moss in the river water.

I will help with your face. I am sorry if it stings.

Ujurak extended a foreleg in front of Sven, a lifeline to hold should his brother need it. Gently, Ujurak began to sweep the moss across his brother's muzzle, leting the water pour from it before wiping away the blood that stained. Ujurak works slow and methodically, taking frequent pauses to check-in.

It is only them here. The woods of the hollow were not their own, but here they were. Battered, wounded, and cast from their birthplace. The stone prince's jaws tremble with anger.

We must heal before we return. Words for himself just as much as for Sven. When we are healed, we will grow stronger. Ujurak stops his cleaning to draw Sven's gaze. He held it there, a righteous light within.

When we are stronger, we will return. We will kill them. Mercy was not a chance they will get again. Thus, they could not spare such courtesy to the stone thieves. A dark promise spoken in hushed tones for only Sven and the river.

Taking a chance to review his work, Ujurak gently nodded to his brother. I believe you are as clean as I can get you right now. Come, lets bind you wounds.