Bonesplinter Ravine his betrayal is overwhelming

so i wrote a freakin' novel ...no need to match the length!

the boy mentions that he thinks he can walk and wintersbane gives the boy a sage nod of understanding, taking one and then a second step back to give him space. watching him attempt to peel himself from the slick, wet ground, to watch him push through the weakness from being malnourished and infected and injured is ...almost painful. this newfound compassion is a strange and uncharted beast to the soturi ...but he suspects it is largely because tywyll is just a kid. would he have been an adult would wintersbane have bothered to stop at all? he doesn't know, was the quick, knee-jerk reaction he wants to tell himself but he rather thinks that he wouldn't have. it's a dog eat dog world and wintersbane is all for survival of the fittest. but cubs ...cubs are different. he is cold, harsh, calculating and can be incredibly cruel but around cubs he's soft. not unlike his gangster father before him.

the boy progresses to a stand, and though wintersbane hangs back his muscles are tense, ready to move forward to offer a shoulder of support if the boy needs it. stubbornly, tywyll clings to his pride ( not that the tundrian can blame him, he'd have been the same way ). tywyll's slow steps draw a pained yelp from him, loud and raw and wintersbane lurches forward a few steps, ears slicking back against the crown of his skull before they push forth, alert. he gives a quick, frosty glimpse to the ravine around them, worried for a moment that the sound might've attracted unwanted attention. but he affirms that no other predators besides the two of them prowl the area and the bristled hackles at his nape soothe back.

tywyll insists that he can do it and the tundrian respects it, ghosting after the injured boy until he's made it within the safety of the cave where he watches the boy flop down and pant. a frown tugs at wintersbane's muzzle. a contemplative hum is given but it offers no words, no indication as to what he's actually contemplating. it has been a very long time since he's been to this ravine and he'd been just a boy the last time. he doubts it'll have what he needs but the cave with undoubtedly have moss ...and moss would be useful for covering his wounds. trying to organize everything into top priorities, especially when everything was a top priority caused a slight press of stress on the soturi but he tries his best to shake it off. he can't afford to get frustrated. frustration would only slow him down.

he pokes around the immediate entrance of the cavern, stepping in a small naturally formed basin in the rock bed of the cavern filled with rain water dripping steadily from the stalactites ceiling. he sniffs at it cautiously and takes a small drink from it, testing it. it is clean and he calls out to the boy with a small chuff. "when you've regained some energy there is fresh rainwater collected here. it is clean," wintersbane assures him in case it comes up to question. "you should drink little bits often. not a whole lot at once." he advices. last thing he needed was the boy to drown himself by drinking too much. with that said, he pokes around a bit deeper, where the aridness of the cavern gives way to a muggy press of air and noses around until he finds moss. he gathers as much as he can carry betwixt his jaws, trying his best not to gag on the slimy stuff as he pads back to where he'd left his temporary charge. he deposits the moss on a rock nearby. "i'm going to dress your wounds. moss is sterile so it'll help to clean your wounds and act as a dressing to prevent further infection." wintersbane explains as he begins to press it to the boy's wounds as dressings with his nose, trying to be as gentle as he can while ensuring that it's packed against the boy's flesh. "i'm what my people call a soturi, or warrior in the common tongue." wintersbane talks as he dresses the boy's numerous wounds, taking his time. he doesn't want to miss anything and he doesn't want to rush and risk causing tywyll further pain either. "i'm no medic but for my skill set having a basic grasp on easily identifiable plants and their medicine properties could mean the difference between life and death." in this case, literally. he'd always thought it was taught as a bit of a courtesy thing...but it was good to know it was actually useful.

"i'm going to go hunting. for something to eat, and for something to help combat your infections. i'll be back in a little bit. you'll be safe here." wintersbane tells him when he finishes dressing the last wound with moss, taking a step back to assess his handiwork. "don't forget to drink little bits of water often." he reminds firmly before he steps out of the dryness of the cavern's mouth and into the muds of the ravine.