Silver Moraine all the world you roam turns you into stone

well, maybe not on death's door, if she spoke so strongly. that could be due to a lack of pain, though; if that was the case, then the situation was more dire than he thought. he smiled at her cheeky remark, pulling slightly away and examining her wounds. "well, it's not good," he responded, his voice a murmured rumble in his throat.

if he could just get her back to the maplewood. . . the moraine was barren, devoid of any useful herbs or plants. moss, he knew he needed, and other herbs to dull the pain, if it was--he hoped--there. but moss first and foremost, and he didn't want to know how many rocks he needed to turn over here to find the stuff.

"stay here," he commanded, his golden eyes flashing to her face for an instant before rushing back to the edge of the forest, claws unsheathed and ready to tear clumps of greenery from the bases of trees. once the bleeding stopped, they'd be able to go to morningside's rendezvous. until then, it was a waiting game.