Wapun Meadow get a medic for the general

Maegi lifted her head a couple of inches to stare incredulously at the woman, eyes glassy with fatigue and injury--yet there was still a spark there, if quite muted. "You don't know Molag Bal," she said, "and you don't know me. Why should I trust you?"

It was a fair question. She had began to separate wolves into two distinct categories: those she did know and those she didn't. And over the course of her life, with the exception of Potema, all those she did not know had wanted to do her harm. . .or had actually done harm. Now, all of the sudden, this brown woman had appeared out of nowhere claiming to have her best interests at heart?

"And what do you mean, repay you?" Maegi continued. The stress she put on her words inadvertently split her wound open again, and she half-gagged as a fresh trickle of blood coated her tongue. She spat, glaring at the she-wolf. "I've no idea wha' y're talkin' abou'," she accused, gingerly forming her lips into syllables she could manage.