Larksong Grotto Warflower

Words he didn't understand made him tilt his head, ears flicking back in momentary hesitance; if he'd found another band of caribou hunters, he would be fucked. He'd learned so little Lanzadoii that he couldn't tell if Ayovi was speaking the same language; but there was a tenderness to her words that he thought sounded unfamiliar. There was some hope, after all. 

Not for him, though. If he had to learn a third language, he was still definitely fucked.

Finding Ayovi was a stroke of luck- out of all the wolves in the world, he'd found the right one. His tail thumped against the ground and he breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that Morwenna had been good enough at giving directions that he'd managed to go exactly where she'd wanted him to go. And little Fa'liya finally began to drink. 

Success was short lived; Ayovi warned him. I know. he uttered, regret softening his voice. I could- He began, only to rise a moment later at the sound of pawsteps approaching, fast. He moved to place himself at the mouth of the rocky overhang, prepared to defend Ayovi and Fa'liya at all costs, though he felt his conviction fail for only a moment when he caught sight of a dark wolf running toward them. 

Morwenna! And she had a child with her! He moved aside to let her enter their shelter, sniffing her over, fur raising on end at the scent of blood, ears folded back as he recalled the regret of his own failure. If he'd been a better fighter, then he might have saved C'ede as well. He flinched when she shouted, believing he had caused her grief when he'd taken the child she'd left tucked away, safe. I took her when I found her, I thought- He tried to explain, but Morwenna's focus was on Caan, and Ksura peeked past Morwenna's shoulder to get a glimpse of what was going on, but she hovered over the pup, obscuring his view. She explained about his paw, and Ksura grimaced. 

He wasn't sure what to do with himself, at this point. Ulfric approached, a stranger to Ksura's eyes, not much less intimidating than the other man. Skorpa returned, and Ksura resumed his crouch, tucked tail thumping against his inner thighs. He did not seem to be too offended, that another refugee and child had come to their home. 

He knew nothing of medicine, and as much as he wanted to fuss over Morwenna and the child, he felt Ayovi might be better at doing so, at a lower energy level. Ksura, tired as he was, was flea-ridden with anxiety. He sought to relieve some of it by bobbing his head to the tall men who had come to their aid. Th-thank you. I'm Ksura.