Emberwood glory and gore

@Arric first and then @The Wanderer to hop in sometime after? Tagging @Indra III for reference.

The redhead Arric had wrangled before she escaped slept, nestled in the woods near the creek. Her fate remained open—unless she tried another attack, Akavir was simply content that she was away from the two volatile wolves she had come to defend—her young age reminding him of his daughters in a way. Perhaps, given her age, she was redeemable.

As far as he was concerned, she wasn’t a hostage. He and Arric had just broken up their little trio. She could leave if she wanted—in many ways, he hoped she would.

He chuffed to his companion, a low groan escaping him as they moved to the direction of the forest. Arric had said he had rudimentary healing abilities—Akavir had suggested they take a moment from the creek to regather, in case others did appear—and the emberwood seemed a fitting place, in case they could scrounge up something to help assist in their wounds.

Okay so both his shoulders are bitten and ripped open, the one on right worse than the one on his left, his muzzle is ripped downward towards his chin, but not deep enough to cause teeth to show. His left paw is torn near the pad. And general aches and bruises.

Arric had done as asked, he had grasped the girl in his teeth and smacked the foul white female away. He hadn't found pleasure in either task, but it was what it was, and Akavir didn't seem to have any ill intent towards the girl, more so he wished to protect her, allow her, her own choices.

Arric followed at a limp, eyes on the trees and plants. Autumn had cut much short. There was some chamomile he foraged for pain.  Some sage also for pain and infection. He pulled them from the ground and smashed them against a rock, to squish into a paste.

So listen. This is gonna sting like you wouldn't believe, but it will help the pain. He held it out.

It's not great, but it will help in a pinch. Add some cobwebs to keep it all together and boom, rudimentary, but we won't die from infection.

He nodded to both the sage and the chamomile. You can eat a little it will dull the pain, but it tastes bloody awful.

Hecmade sure to keep enough behind for the girl.

Edit: Oops, I thought this was in Swiftcurrent Creek!

The scent of blood drew The Wanderer. Wolf blood, so strong and so fresh that she half-wondered if she'd stumbled directly into the conflict. But no, it was quiet. A battle had been fought here, and she was just in time to witness its aftermath. Even if some survivors lurked to attack her, she doubted she would come away with more than a scratch or two. She was far better off than the poor fool who'd left all this blood.
She found two wolves. The girl halted with a fair distance between them, enough to outrun her injured brethren if need be. Her lips parted slightly in shock at the sight of them, but the expression took on a smirking aspect after a heartbeat, as if she was pleased to find the pair. Need help? She called out merrily. Of course you do!
The Wanderer stepped closer, assessing the damage - and the scent of herbs - from a distance. I suppose you've cleaned the wounds, and found yourselves some proper binding? Her tone suggested that she very much did not believe they'd done either of those things.

just not note, Indra is back at SC where the battle took place... these two left their... not-quite-theirs territory, bless them

Everything hurt.
Like a mountain lion had grabbed him, tossed him around like a ragdoll, skewered his insides, and then tossed him aside only to stomp on him again after that.

He grunted at Arric’s words, taking the offered paste and turning, realizing how awkward it would be to apply it to himself—“Here, I’ll just put it on you then you can do me,” he grumbled, feeling a surge of awkwardness. Sure, the two had become companions the past few days and had fought together—somehow this was a strange sort of intimacy.

That was when the cooing voice of a she-wolf came about—his eyes casting over her with a glower—slender as she was, a silver that compared to the moon and bright eyes. And words that practically oozed disdain.

“We might consider relocating to a place where the circus doesn’t visit,” he muttered under his breath, primarily for Arric’s ears alone.

Shifting—a wince, the scabs of his wounds pulling—he gave her a saccharine smile. “We’re getting there. Of course.”

Arric slathered the paste along his fighting patners wounds. Ignoring the awkwardness.

Though he was jarred by a she wolf and he went on edge. Though he eyed her she seemed demented maybe but not dangerous so he let his guard fall slightly.

Sage and chamomile all i could find. Some cobwebs. Got something better in mind?

He'd take some ease.

If The Wanderer was at all bothered by the frosty reception she received from the dark-furred pair, she made no indication of it. She had long been accustomed to the arrogance of men. It felt good to prickle back at them with her own carefree confidence - to prove, to herself and to the rest of the world, that she lived for no man's comfort.
She smiled, and turned her attention fully to the smart one. The one who could see past his pride to accept her offer. Well, you'll want to wash all of that off, She gestured with her nose to what had already been applied to the man's companion. They looked so similar, though the clever one bore a pale ring around one eye. Brothers, perhaps?
A quick patch job like this is sufficient for a battlefield injury, it's true, but the fight is over now. The wounds will need to be cleaned thoroughly; if anything, even the smallest bit of dirt, is left in the flesh, it could mean infection regardless of your herbs. The fur will need to be pulled away and parted around the wounds as well, The Wanderer stepped closer as she spoke, her eyes fixed on their wounds; studying. And they must each be dressed in cobwebs - normally I wouldn't recommend the use of sage so soon, but as you already have a paste made, it might as well be used. But please, try not to make a habit of this approach - you may find some herbs less effective with time if you persist in using them before infection has set in.
Her gaze drifted back to the man who'd been so quick to snap back at her. I believe I could find something more... effective to treat your pain. Do you have a cache nearby, or will you need meals as well?
Oh, if only her father could see her now - offering to tend to foreigners, and men no less! A warrior, a healer, a free woman; all these things she had dreamed of were now hers, rules be damned.
And if she came off a bit mad, it was only because she absolutely was.

She studied them—the words flowing smoothly from her, educating them while also flexing, it seemed, and he kept careful watch of her, weary—growing tired. They had little choice but to trust her, and Akavir exhaled, a glance cast to Arric. “We can wash up in the creek, then,” he spoke, deciding to take his medicine like a grown man rather than fight it—if this woman knew what she was doing and could assist them, then, it would seem they had won the lottery of sorts.

“We don’t have much for a cache. We’re claiming land at the creek nearby and some rowdy loners thought they’d pick a fight.” He paused, gaze roving over her fox-like features. A dainty thing—small.

“There’s a girl back at the creek, too. Young. She was one of the attackers, but she’s a mess.” He paused, still not sure how Arric felt about their hostage not-hostage situation. “She probably needs someone to look her over, if you can spare the time.”

Arric listened to the girl and nodded his head. Keep using it or get rid of it, I don't care. I'm no healer. I just used what i know. 

He thought about offering to hunt with her, and then eyed his footpaw. I could hunt if it's something easy. I can herd it you dispatch it?

He hated feeling useless and right now, he felt useless. Without another word, Arric ambled towards the river, and strode right in. The shock to his system, but he quietly went though his mantra's and soon enough he was calm, and didn't quite feel it. He ran a paw over the water and into the wound, without a word.

He got out and shook, though it pulled a grimace from his maw, at the pull and sucking feeling on his shoulders.

Girl has a chest wound, and probably some bruised ribs. He grunted.