Bitterroot Valley footloose and fancy free

Anticipation of pain was oft worse than the feeling itself, and that was the case here as Ico stiffly let the white wolf approach and then — it was over. He gingerly returned his paw to the ground, and while it was a little uncomfortable he was tremendously relieved to find that it didn't hurt all that much. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to sheepishly announce to Fields that he was injured and could walk no further.

Speaking of thankful, Ico could've thanked the kind stranger a thousand times over. He was about to start with one, when he noticed her dark eyes wide with curiosity. He followed her gaze — she was inspecting the splinter she'd just extracted from his paw, and it was an odd thing indeed; and blue! "What is that?" he asked in a hushed voice, dipping to look at it closer. Ico recalled something a spiritual healer in his old pack had once uttered. "Is it magic?"