Sleepy Fox Hollow seven ate nine

@Ketzia

He'd retreated to the secluded valley following the aftermath of his run-in with the acherontic youth with the intentions of nursing his ailing wounds, but, given their placement and his lack of opposable thumbs, found that tending to them would become a challenge he had not foreseen. Normally such a hurdle would not usually cause him such restlessness but here in the midst of winter while he was at his most vulnerable, well, a complication such as this easily became a setback that could mean life or death for the wayward rogue. 

The wounds had already started to fester and if left untreated, would like take to infection and begin to rot from the inside out. So in a frantic attempt at holding off any unwanted illnesses, the crepuscular man lowered himself along the bank of a nearby stream and on the count of three slipped his injured shoulder into the wintry waters. It left him winded and gasping for air and after but a moment of being submerged, he tore away and began muttering a handful of colorful curses directed at none other than himself. 

After her insightful interlude with Stigmata, the honey-kissed dove had kept a certain distance from him. She held no intention of breaking away from the pack or her vow to him—there was no reason they could not be friends, and if she was honest, she knew she would enjoy assisting with whatever little miscreants he sired by the numerous women within their ranks. Puppies were a joy—she just wasn’t interested in having them without a mate by her side.

For now, though, she was easing her heart with a small break. And as she loped along the peaks and ledges of the mountain, the scent of another caused her to pause, her vivid eyes scanning the horizon in search of the stranger.

Coming to a hollow, she saw the dark form of the wolf in the near distance. With a certain audacity to her graceful step, her refined muzzle lifting as she scented blood and causing her brows to furrow with intrigue.

He lowered himself to the frigid waters—the string of words stirring the briefest flicker of amusement to curl at her lips before she offered a chuff to announce herself, eyes carefully sliding over what appeared to be a wolf who knew battle well. “What does the other guy look like?” It was hard to miss that festering wound on his shoulder—the stink of injury clear in the air.

His foul murmurs were broken by the feminine voice of the buttermilk stranger, her appearance and aura holding a familiar quality about them that made him wonder if they had crossed paths once before. "Afraid they've got the better half of the story" he let out in snicker, briefly recalling in his mind the unfortunate run in with yin and yang and their terribly poor teenage attitudes. 

The abrupt piercing sting of the midwinter breeze clashing against his aching wound was enough to draw his attention back towards his new company and with a quick flick of his tail, politely invited her to draw closer to the water's edge should she wish to do so. 

She studied him, amusement flashing across her exotic features, though not at the potential sacrifice of his pride. She prowled closer upon his invitation, her muzzle canting slightly as her eyes continued to sweep over the injuries in which she could see. “Honesty is always an attractive quality,” she purred, believing the words to keep their conversation light. “Would you like me to look at your wounds?”

She paused, her tail sweeping languidly through the air as she cast him a bemused smile. “I promise I won’t bite.”

It felt as if a viper, sly and scheming, was coiling around him waiting for the opportunity to strike and yet no hostility was to be found emanating from her. Still, he was unsure what to make of her despite his initial impression and decided on a whim to allow her to draw closer and inspect his wounds as she pleased. So with a single, sharp nod the paragon fell to his haunches and let the tenseness in his muscles relax, his gaze fixated on the finer features of his company.

Uhhh..hah. I'm so sorry. <3 Obviously this is wicked outdated for you, so I can either edit her offer, or you can respond however you think he might to her offer. So sorry! <3

He was a trusting creature, though the pale dove surmised that merely came from his hulking mass in comparison to her own. Tactically, she could certainly assert damage upon the stranger should she desire to, but perhaps not at a greater cost upon herself. It wasn’t in the intent of the gypsy woman, though, and as he allowed trust to roil from himself, she felt a twinge of admiration, knowing the gesture far from simple.

Outwardly, the mask remained within careful place, for it had certainly done her no favors the past weeks to allow it to slip. Her eyes drifted from him, training upon the wounds that traced past fur to skin, scrutinizing with only faint knowledge of medicine. The jagged edges of the injury could promise infection, which she assumed he was well aware off—but the quiver of her nose could detect no indication thus far of the worst happening.

She pulled back slightly, allowing her gaze to fall back upon the masculine features of the warrior before her. It would be a lie to say he would not make a fine addition to the ranks of Diaspora—and perhaps a welcome distraction from the more recent disappointment that had settled in her heart. But she was not so brazen—not yet.

“I think you’ll live,” she murmured, the smoke of her voice lilting with a teasing coil. “I can try to clean it for you if you’d like. But I’m not a healer, and I don’t know what to put on it to keep it from infection. My pack has a talented wolf, who’d know better.”

She paused, taking a pace back, then, allowing her tail to curl around her hind for a moment before flicking outward. “But at full disclosure, it’s likely they’ll want something in return for the assistance.”