Bearclaw Valley if the lord's willing and the creek don't rise

The poppy seeds had worn off, leaving Blondine back to her sober, suffering self. While she didn't regret going at it with the wolverine, she did regret losing. Oh, well, she thought — there was no use in dwelling on the past when it was too late to change it, anyway. Luckily, it seemed that the migraine had subsided enough for her to move around freely, albeit with her head hung low and her good eye barely open so as to prevent any strain. 

Blondine thought that she must look mighty strange parading around the territory with her head darn near between her legs; she hoped that she wouldn't come across @Xan and have to face the embarassment of explaining what'd happened, or having to run through the tale of Indra's impromptu surgery. She'd have to face him eventually, though, even if she dreaded it.

Tagging for reference (unless you wanna pop in)!

Despite feeling the need to be around @Reigi at all times, watching out for her, sometimes it became too much for him. It was uncomfortable to be around her for periods of time any greater than necessary, and so he often dismissed himself to tend to various things; whether it be chasing down rabbits to present to her or patrolling the entrance, he did what he could to keep his mind and body busy.

Content with leaving Reigi far from the entrance—he hoped she’d stay there and away from her usual boulder, but was doubtful of her compliance and so kept an ear out for footfalls—he headed through the valley with the intention of just checking up on things. Yet, when the sound of snow crunching underfoot flitted past his ears, he found himself stopping immediately and swinging his head towards the source.

It wasn’t his friend, which he was thankful for, but Blondine—and she seemed off. Being a distance away, still, and with her head so low, he didn’t notice the absence of her eye. But Xan didn’t turn away, he just adjusted his direction to instead head towards her and, within seconds, his gaze was locked on to the side of her face—and he was furious. His steps quickened and he was soon upon her, asking, “What happened?” and, “Who did that?” First Indra’s tail and now Blondine’s eye? He wanted to know why his packmates were being attacked and, of course, if it was by the same wolf—if only he knew that her assailant wasn’t a wolf at all.

Blondine sighed and raised her head enough to make sure that it was who she'd thought. There was no point in lying, she thought, and it really would have done her more harm than good in the long run. It might have been an embarassing story to tell and the outcome might have been more humiliating, but it'd happened. I got into fight, she admitted in a whisper, but it was my doing.

When she'd first noticed the wolverine's scent, she should have turned back, but her pride wouldn't let her. I'd gone just a little over the border for some herb huntin', found myself a wolverine. Hopefully, Xan would have been able to put the pieces together. Oh, how she hoped he wouldn't be upset.

Alexander was no stranger to battle, he’d engaged it countless fights all throughout his life. He didn’t fault her for that, though he was taken aback by her comment. “It doesn’t matter if it was your doing or not,” he declared, eyes narrowing into a glare. Her contribution didn’t matter, nor did it stand out to him. All he could focus on was the fact that she had an empty socket where her eye should be. “Even if you started it, this”—he pointed towards her eye with his nose—“is taking things t—” He couldn’t finish his sentence, the rest of the words trapping themselves in his throat. Because through his rage he was still listening, still taking in her words as the explanation was continued, and there was one word in particular that left him struggling to continue his rant.

Wolverine.

“...are you saying a wolverine did this to you?” he asked, needing some ounce of clarification to assure himself that he wasn’t hearing things. “Did you at least kill it?” If it had managed to take out her eye, he could only imagine what she must have done to it in return.

Blondine couldn't tell if her admittance that, yes, it was a wolverine, was working for or against her case. I tried, she began with a sigh, but he was fast and moving around on my bad side. I couldn't see much, she added with a cross-eyed look in the direction of her most apparent wound. Thankfully, the gashes along her side were healing nicely and scabbing a shade of brown that was flush with her fur, thus hiding them from a distance.

I've got more than enough experience fighting wolves, but that thing...it was my first time in a situation like that. Blondine was already embarassed enough by the entire ordeal, but having Xan scold or pity her — she was prepared for whichever way this would go — would've made the entire thign absolutely unbearable.

She further explained what had happened—how her experiences in life had not prepared her for such an encounter, to sum things up. He was still in a partial state of shock over what had apparently happened, unable to fully grasp the fact, still, that a wolverine had attacked her; Alexander did not know much about the creatures, but assumed that any wolf could take one down without a problem. Which, clearly, was not true—but such was a fact that he did not dwell on long enough to fully recognise.

“Just—” What the hell was he supposed to say? “Just take care of your wounds. I’ll handle the wolverine if it comes back.” With that, he dismissed her and took his leave, needing an additional moment to figure some things out.