Wapun Meadow leave a light on

uktark’s gaze lingers on her paw a moment longer than polite, then lifts back to her eyes. he exhales through his nose, a short huff—acknowledgment more than sympathy.
i don’t know medicine, he admits plainly. can’t fix it.
her question draws a flick of his ear. humor—soft, testing. he studies her face, then looks away, as if the answer is obvious enough not to need dressing up.
i have been told i am… protective, he says at last, voice low, almost reluctant.
a pause. snow settles. his tail shifts once behind him.
do you want me to go?