Lost Creek Hollow Sir, you have no call to get snippy with me!

Though they didn't hibernate, porcupines were still more or less sleepy, slow-moving things in the winter; even moreso when they had to wade through the snow. Joss found the porcupine's tracks leading into the pack's territories and he hastened to catch up with it, hoping he'd track it down before it could climb up a tree. It was a decent sized creature, from what he could tell from its tracks- it dragged its feet through the snow, as porcupines always did, what with their low carriage- and there was a good trail leading right down the middle of its tracks from where its heavy tail dragged. He was sure he could track it down. 

Of course, catching up with a porcupine was no big deal; the tracks were fresh and the creature moved so slowly that he had caught up with it within a half of an hour of finding its trail in the snow. Upon catching sight of the wolf, it began to make a beeline for a tree- but at a snail's pace. Joss intrecepted its route and it began to grind its teeth together as a warning to the curious, hungry wolf. It turned its back to him and puffed out its quills as a warning. Joss had hunter porcupines before- and knew that the only vulnerable places on it were its face and its underside...And to get to its underside, he'd have to go for its face. 

Unfortunately, though porcupines were slow, the ornery creature could still whip itself around fast enough to stick Joss' shoulder and cheek with a few sets of quills before he could grab a hold of its face. He let out a high pitched shriek and staggered away from the creature- glad that the quills had missed his eye, but he'd managed to get at least 10 embedded in his cheek and another 15 or so in his shoulder. He continued to cay-yay for a few minutes as he watched the porcupine saunter off with a dour, pouty gaze as he sat still, trying to figure out a plan for the removal of the twenty-something-odd quills he now had stuck in his left side.

Gannet heard the cry and immediately rushed to the source. It turned out to be a bony stranger, one of the pack? Who had run afoul of a porcupine.

Do you need help? He asked as he came closer, not bothering to stop or introduce himself. Gannet was friendly and tended to assume most everyone else was, though he'd had to correct that multiple times.

He wasn't a healer, but he could take a look at least and see if there was anything he could do.

With a cheek and shoulder full of quills, Joss was vexed; he wanted to paw at them, but he'd been told before never to do that as it would force them deeper. Unfortunately, he listened to that thought only for a few moments before he gave it a try- and cried out in pain as he did, indeed, push them into his skin a bit deeper. Lightly paralysed by the shock and unsure exactly how to get himself out of that situation, he stayed right where he was, his wild gaze sweeping this way and that, simmering with frustration and shame as a pale wolf came into his line of vision. He slumped against the ground, hoping not to be seen, but it was too late; he'd definitely been spotted, and by the look of concern on the male's face, his quills had been noticed too. 

He began to shrink backwards, crawling a bit with his belly on the ground as the male approached and he uttered a faint, weak growl to warn him in case he decided to press his luck and take a piece out of Joss while he was injured. The male had a curious look on his face, but not the kind of curiosity that meant he might strike out for fun, or poke fun at Joss, who still regarded his new companion with distrust and something akin to resentment. He didn't like being seen like this. 

He was offered assistance, but Joss wasn't eager to accept it. He didn't know who this guy was, or if he had any idea what to do with this sort of situation. Joss knew that the only option was to get de-quilled, but that would mean letting this stranger get very close to him and pluck the quills out, if he was even remotely willing to do so. Still, was he in a position to refuse? It wasn't like he'd go to Treason, as he imagined she might not like seeing him in that condition...So it was possibly for the best that someone else dealt with this disaster, before he got caught this way by the leader of the pack. 

"Quillpig." He said quietly, by way of explaining what was already a pretty clear scenario. He looked up into the trees and caught sight of the large, quilled creature on a branch halfway up a spruce tree, and gave it a scathing look. He didn't ask for help, and didn't look incredibly welcoming of it either- but he wasn't in a position to ward the male off either. He turned his muzzle away, presenting the quilled cheek and shoulder to the male, but couldn't help himself from giving him a particularly steely side-eye the whole while; mixed messages were somewhat of a Joss specialty.

Now body language, that Gannet got. His posture dropped instantly when the other wolf bristled, putting them more on a level and keeping his head low to show he wasn't a threat. There was no rank posturing in him - he never had. It ended so that he was almost crawling as well by the time he got there, whining encouragingly. I can help, maybe.

He had never heard that name, but he could picture the animal. It wasn't exactly subtle. He nodded, then slowly moved in.

He was going to start with the shoulder because if there was going to be a reaction, better to start there. If allowed, he would start to grasp and withdraw the barbs one at a time, carefully, alert for any sudden movement that might be Joss readying to take a snap.

For the two of them, their movements could have easily been described as a subtle dance, as Joss triggered movements in Gannet without even thinking about it. Every sinister look, every sharp turn of his muzzle seemed to be reciprocated with a softer, gentler motion in response, which let him know that he was being not only watched but read. Something about this unnerved Joss, but also set his mind at ease knowing that as soon as he made any sort of hostile movements, the pale stranger would back off. Either that, or he was simply mirroring Joss so that he could anticipate and strike first. The latter didn't seem likely, so Joss flattened himself against the ground, his uninjured shoulder pressed against the trunk of a tree as he watched Gannet close in, aiming for the quills on his shoulder. Always testing the waters, Joss flinched a few times first- just making sure that he still had the freedom to move away if he wanted to. 

He held still long enough for the first quill to come out, provoking a loud, high pitched yelp from the thin male who pressed himself even closer to the tree. He continued to glare daggers at Gannet, growling softly, but he tried to keep himself quiet, and act a bit more tough. "Hurts." He snorted softly, pouting as he watched Gannet, finding it easier to stare Gannet fdown as he plucked the quills out, rather than looking away.

Talking to Joss reminded Gannet a bit of talking with his old friend Dune, and that made him like the other wolf despite the frequent growls rumbling his direction. He was patient in his task, and gentle as he could be, but he frowned sympathetically. Sorry.

It would be better when they were out. When he was done, he'd try to cautiously move on to the face, but doubtless at some point his patient would tire and they would take a break. Gannet wasn't a healer, but his proclivity towards cues served him well to know the state of another's pain and patience.

Sulking the whole while, and trying to stifle his yips and shrieks, Joss endured the painstaking process of sitting (relatively) still while Gannet plucked the quills out one by one from his shoulder. He glared up the tree where he could just barely make out the outline of the creature; on its perch, it looked almost like a witch's broom tree growth, save for the fact that its quills were tipped with a lighter colour, and it had a mealy little face. He wanted very much to shake the damn tree until the quillpig fell out on a pile of its own quills- but there was no hope he'd be able to do that. The creature was safe- for now. 

 Luckily for Joss, his companion was almost completely in tune with Joss' fluctuating moods and temper, and seemed to know when to pull back and when to simply let Joss wriggle a bit before going in again- despite Joss's low growls, and the steady side-eye he was given the whole time. All it took was the tiniest movement of Joss' whiskers to cue Gannet to take a moment; he didn't even have to curl his lip, so eventually, the process had moved forward with Joss being a slightly more quiet and steady patient. He turned his head slightly when Gannet pulled back, and uttered a shaky sigh of relief; his shoulder was done.

He was tired of the pain, and of holding himself down as Gannet plucked and pulled the quills out against him. Now was the more difficult part. So when Gannet did manage to take one of the quills embedded in his cheek between his teeth, the pain stung him so badly that rather than staying still and resisting, he leaned toward Gannet to try and take the pressure off the tug and lessen the pain. Now feeling very, very sorry for himself, he slid his now very doleful gaze up at Gannet in a silent plea and whimpered softly.

It was a long process, but one that Gannet endured rather patiently. He didn't mind long processes like this one bit and was glad that he was able to get a good number of them out. His estimation was that, once they were out, it would feel way better.

The face one was obviously worse. He spit it out, then sighed, frowning sympathetically. Wait? he asked, willing to take a break if the other wolf wanted to pause for a while. The quills weren't going anywhere, and as long as they got them out before they could get infected or anything, it was probably fine.

Unlike the quills in his shoulder which came out without too much ptotest- as his skin and muscle were so condensed and thin that there wasn't much to hold the quills in- the ones on his face were agony. As Gannet pulled, Joss' lip pulled from his face and he thought he could feel the quill move each milimetre, dragging its prickly, hooked way back out of his skin. Gannet dropped the first one and Joss regarded him with a sad gaze, which hardened when Gannet offered to give him a bit of a break. He shook his head, and lay his head down on the ground. 

"Hold me down. An' just do it fast." He said, motioning for Gannet to literally hold his face down with a foot if he needed to. He just wanted to get this done, even if it meant he'd be screaming and bitching the whole way through it.

Gannet didn't exactly want to keep going, but when the other wolf asked him to, he nodded solemnly. Okay. He placed a firm paw on the other wolf's face, the other next to his head, and began to draw out the quills as fast as he could while still using care.

If the other wolf squirmed or snapped, he was met with a fairly insensitive response. Gannet was now entirely focused on getting these things out soon as he could, and he would only stop to readjust if Joss got loose in a way that he might get a snap in that connected.

As soon as Gannet held his face down, Joss regretted plucking up the bravado to ask him to just pull the last quills out. His shrieks were muffled, as Gannet did a good job of pinning his muzzle to the ground, but he snarled and sneered and uttered several shrill noises as Gannet plucked the quills out with ruthless speed. He was careful, and he did the job quickly- but it was still agony for Joss, who was quick to resent his decision. He rolled his eyes back and finally his snarls subsided to unhappy whines as he watched with one fearful grey eye as each quill was plucked and pulled from his cheek. Eventually, he sort of got used to the pain- the way one gets used to having a tattoo done. But it still wasn't pleasant, and Joss continued to whimper like a mistreated pup as Gannet removed the last of the quills.

Gannet didn't particularly like causing pain. It had been one of the biggest obstacles in learning to fight - he didn't actually want to hurt the other individual, because rarely did he see what they did as wrong. Enemies weren't much in his vocabulary, nor was accusation or anger (at least not often).

This was different though. He was causing pain, yes, but he knew without a doubt that he was helping too. When he was done Joss would feel less pain and that was the most important thing, and that was why he was able to continue, shutting out the poor wolf's pitiful whines.

Finally, he withdrew the last one, and took a step back. Done, he said quietly, brushing his nose lightly over the shoulder and attempting one or two soothing licks to illustrate. He would need to clean the area, and there were probably things he could do for the pain. But Gannet had no stores right now, so that would need to come later.

Joss struggled to get through the rest of the de-quilling, but eventually that moment came when Gannet removed his foot from Joss's narrow muzzle and allowed him to sit up. He leered at the quils on the ground there, and lifted a foot, wanting to scuffle a bunch of snow and dirt over them so that no one else would step on them and end up quilled. He froze, though, when Gannet leaned toward him again, squinting his eyes as he suspected that perhaps he'd missed a quill or two. But what came next wasn't the prick of pain that had made his eyes water; instead, Gannet had licked his cheek. 

Joss remained frozen; he couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him gently, and he wasn't entirely sure if this was going to turn into pain or not. He opened his eyes and continued to give Gannet a harsh side-eye, but he didn't move away, either. He prepared himself to fight back if necessary, but it didn't seem like he'd have to. Gannet was simply cleaning his wounds, which stung slightly- but at the same time, the warmth of his tongue soothed some of the pain away. As soon as Gannet stopped, Joss turned his head ever so slightly toward him, still watching the pale male out of the corner of his eye, and still tense- but at the same time, he hesitantly leaned a bit closer; a silent, scared plea for him to continue.

Gannet sensed an inkling of the surprise, and of the yearning, and it triggered something in him. He was a caretaker at heart, and as with pups, he felt like he wanted to help this wolf and give whatever comfort he could. It was a protective feeling, and it caused him to sit alongside, close as the other male would allow, and continue to gently clean the wounds the quills had left.

LOLing that gannet is my one char who has frickin mother instincts yikes

Though Joss was not typically a terribly social or friendly wolf, the relief he got from Gannet's gentle touch lulled him into a sense of security. This guy wasn't all bad; out of all the wolves in the pack, this one was definitely the kindest of them. He closed his eyes and sat still, allowing Gannet to clean his wounds, and though he wasn't aware of it, he'd begun to lean toward his pale packmate, like someone leaning into a back massage. Though the wounds were still sore, it was nice to finally have someone touch him in a gentle, caring way. It wasn't something Joss had felt often, and he relished it.

Gannet did a nice thorough job of it, and the methodical practice of it was relaxing for him too. So relaxing, in fact, that he found himself getting tired.

Proximity among packmates was something Gannet had always found to be quite natural, so as he finished and gave a wide yawn, he thought nothing of settling in right there for a nap. If Joss wanted, he was more than welcome to join him - Gannet's relaxed demeanor suggested the fairly clearly. But if not, that was fine too.

wrap? They need another!

Joss didn't even think twice about the whole situation. He had finally found someone in the pack who treated him fairly well, so when Gannet finished, and his soft brown eyes expressed a sort of gentle sleepiness, Joss curled up beside him, tucking himself against the male's alabaster fur for warmth. He was aware that in comparison, he likely felt like a prickly pincushion, even with all the quills pulled out of his face and shoulder- but with as little muscle and fat as he had, his angular body wasn't soft and comfortable like Gannet's was. Still, he did his best to keep his angular shoulders as gentle as possible as he curled up beside Gannet, set his head on the male's flank, and heaved a sigh before he fell asleep.