Blackfeather Woods it was easy, natural like breathing air

The woman looked to the plush mass of silvered grey and nodded slowly, spores causing the concerned figure to slip into two before again forming one. She blinked in delirium before laying out when they'd reached the sentinels beyond the poisonous claws of the Willow. Sphinx-like, Flicker turned her scarlet coiffed muzzle to the helpful spirit and canted her head in a corvid-like fashion. It was then, a memory of her past clouded her mind and cleaved her thoughts:

The cream girl was in such a rage, he had done this on purpose. How dare he?! She stalked after her brother with a brewing anger none could soothe. Her brother had made her fail. The pack needed food, winter was on their doorstep and he made her fail. She looked up and caught the white flash of his plumage. Nothing would stop her wreaking revenge. 

The woman noticed that the samaritan had left to get herbs. That was ok. She let the memory swallow her mind again.

It was too late by the time Flicker's Uncle reached them, the damage was done. Cinders lay prone, unconscious from the pain, on the wet ground. Blood stained his face, mud stained his pure plumage. In the seething female's maw was an eye. Her brother's eye. She'd ripped it from his face and marred his cheek in the process. Blood pooled in the well where it belonged. The girl only snarled when her Uncle threw up a howl, and fled from the scene.

She was drawn back to reality by the caw of a crow, looking about, she waited for her savior to gather the herbs and return.