Redhawk Caldera Over my dead body

A couple hours from now, someone's going to come across their unconscious bodies just laying there... HAHA.

Duty's remark had a sobering effect on the Alpha male, whose lips pursed. "What?" he asked, brows furrowing again. He tried to think on when he'd last seen the pack's hippie medic. He hadn't seen or heard from him in a while. And he'd never hosted his pack play session. But wouldn't Somnia have said something if her beau had become scarce? Shouldn't Peregrine have noticed for himself, especially after getting so hung up on Mikael and Tempest vanishing?

"Well, fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Just keep doing what you're doing," he encouraged in a pained but grateful voice. "Is Ash really gone? That stupid son of a bitch!" he spat before Duty could answer. Hadn't he gone AWOL once before? And now he was tied up with Somnia, which meant the Gamma would probably be really upset right about now. Peregrine mumbled a few more oaths under his breath.

"That fuck nugget had better stay gone, else I'm going to rip off his danglers for abandoning us in our time of need," Peregrine said, perhaps a touch melodramatically. It wasn't like Ashton could have anticipated the encounter with the lynx. But wasn't the whole point of a having a pack being able to count on one another at any given time? He couldn't count on Ashton ever again. "Poor Som. God damn it."

The next moment, he swooned. "Ayy... I think I'm gonna lie down. Maybe someone else will come. Maybe someone else is magically a Healer in disguise," the Alpha murmured even as he sank to the ground. It hurt like hell to put weight on his torn shoulder, yet he had no choice because sitting upright suddenly become impossible. His head swam and it seemed the only way to stop it from popping off his shredded shoulder blades was to rest his cheek against the cool ground.

Meanwhile, his fresh wounds wept blood and lymph, turning the snow beneath him into cherry slush.