Ravensblood Forest aperitif

Most of the gore had cleared from her legs, but there was still a lingering copper sheen between her toes. Soaking them proved helpful to a degree. Now Stryx removed herself, climbing across the river stones to the dry patches of crumbling grass struggling to remain alive through the heat and suffocating humidity, shaking her limbs off as she took each step, like a frustrated cat.

The man's questions were probing. His eyes felt like they burned in to her as she moved, and when Stryx stopped to seat herself in the grass, she stared back at him with the same intensity for a second or two. Found someone half-butchered and patched them up. I'm a physician.

She looked him over once more, noticing the lack of fresh wounds and the general cleanliness of his coat, so it could not have been this wolf that had torn in to Praimfaya. It wasn't her business, so Stryx wasn't about to question him about the ordeal; the girl had lived, Stryx had done her duty, and now she was eager to be clean. With this in mind, she turned her attention to her bloodied toes and began to groom through them, lifting one paw to her muzzle at a time and working at the dried blood between them.