Stone Circle only bring the rain

snatches this against my better judgment
staying vaaaague

Physically, he has been healing well since his return home. He hardly notices the healing wounds scattered across his body, save when he rises too quickly or stretches the wrong way and receives a painful, jolting reminder. His mind has not been as lucky, but he tries not to let it show; he's grateful just to be alive, though he can't quite recall the hell he has been through.
He can't recall much about himself, actually, and that's what is on his mind today. He's pacing around the territory, restless and hoping against hope that enough activity might... somehow jog his memory, or something. Anything to ease the alarm that comes with reaching for some memory — any memory! — and coming up empty. But he doesn't find any memories, or even anything of comfort. He finds a man pressed to the ground, pale and sad, and he's reminded of a wilting flower. His paws carry him nearer before he even consciously decides to approach, expression gentle. Hey — are you alright? He asks, halting a few feet away and hoping he's not disturbing the man.