Firefly Glen Her eyes like windows trickle in rain

@Holland <3

All it had taken was for him to suffer one misstep while hunting a rabbit, and one of his claws had hooked just the wrong way against the frozen ground and as his paw slid, he felt something crack and a splinter of pain shot up through his left front leg. He yelped, and the rabbit he'd nearly caught dashed off as he fumbled to a stop, awkwardly halting with the one foot lifted into the air to avoid putting any pressure on it. Blood splattered across the thin layer of fresh snow, making the scene look terribly dramatic and gory, and he shocked him to see just how much blood came dripping freely from his paw. 

He settled down onto the ground and pouted, whining softly as he began to nurse his paw, and his stomach clenched as he saw the angle the claw on his outermost toe took, having been broken near the quick. He continued to lick at the wound, though the blood didn't seem willing to stop, the way other wounds of a similar size usually did. He wished, now, that Fennec was still around- but he remembered, then, that the pack had a new wolf who was trained in medicines. It felt stupid, calling for help over a broken claw- something he'd liken to having nothing more than a hangnail, normally- but this was really bleeding, and he knew next to nothing about injuries like this. So, still doing what he could to stop the blood flow with either his other foot or his muzzle and getting covered in blood in the  process, he sent out a slightly worried, but not terribly urgent call for whoever their new medic was.

It was pure luck he was even around.

Holland returned to the Glen just then, hearing a call for a medicine wolf. He shuffled into the dark, relishing it there briefly before making his way toward the source. He had no herbs or plants on his being, just coming back 'home' after a few days away. Luckily, his den was close by. He made it near the border in case they needed him there.

Finding the young man with his injury, Holland approached. "You called" he breathed, though not a question. It was very clear why the other wolf had called. Blood, a throbbing paw he could feel the heat from here... "I'm" he pauses, squinting "one of the healers." he recalled Toad proclaiming there were more around despite seeing nobody out gathering and tending.

"Keep licking it" he instructed, seeing the wound starting to cake slowly. Glancing around, Holland spotted a patch of moss growing from one tree. He would move toward it. "I'll patch you up."

He felt a bit bad, calling for someone to help him when all he'd done was hook one of his claws, and pull it off to the side. He wasn't sure it would heal back in place, or if he should simply gnaw it off, but the only certain thing was that for the very small wound it was, it bled a lot. It didn't make much sense for him, for so much bloodflow be necessary for his paws, and he'd been jabbed and bitten and torn elsewhere without having this constant of a drip. Whenever he lifted his paw up, it continued to bleed, dripping one drop of scarlet blood after another. Half fascinating, half morbid. 

He'd begin trying to stop the bleeding with his other paw again when his call was answered, and an unfamiliar figure drew near. He was actually a fairly dashing looking fellow, and he looked like he possibly could have been related to Towhee, with the contrast in his pelt between black, white and ochre. For some reason, he found that particular combination of colours quite attractive- and wished that he boasted looks that were as remarkable and striking as Holland's. But he said nothing of it. Guys didn't want compliments from other guys, right?

He nodded, and gestured to the ground where the blood made a solid ring of red around him as though to say it's a bit obvious. He gave the male a somewhat ashamed smile as he drew near and explained that he was one of the pack's medics, though he couldn't help but wonder who the other might've been. Had Dhalia mentioned that she was an aspiring medic, or was he simply just forgetting someone he knew was a medic? Meerkat was a caregiver, but more in a feelings sort of way. 

"I've never seen a wound so small bleed so much," He admitted, as he followed the male's instructions. "All I did was hook it the wrong way and it just started spoutin'," He said, somewhat disturbed by the memory of te spray of blood that had initiated his bloodloss. "I'm Bronco by the way, Bronco Blackthorn."

"It is less about size" the man utters, raking his claws against the moss to peel it away. A small deposit on the ground was soon made "and more about if you hit a blood vessel" he quietly replies to Bronco. Returning to his side with the pile of moss, he drops it on the ground carefully. "a large wound doesn't bleed much if its mostly muscle exposed."

He pauses, his singular eye focused on the hooked claw. "Holland" he says to the other wolf, feeling the need to stop the blood before pleasantries were given right "it'll be sore for awhile; I advise against running" especially fighting other wolves but when did people listen to him? "and keep it still as much as possible. It may start to bleed again if you do much activity."

He settled beside Bronco with the moss. Nudging it toward the young man, he nodded. "The blood should stop if you apply pressure. Just put your paw there, on the moss... Hold it steady and firmly."

The immature side of Bronco was incapable of smothering a snort when Holland made a comment about the importance- or lack thereof- of size. He didn't say it, of course, but there were a couple remarks he could have made as a joke with reference to that subject, but he didn't know Holland well enough, and he was in pain so it didn't seem to be the time to be making lewd suggestions. Besides, Holland apparently was all business, and trying to teach him something about how wounds worked. He made a face as he peered down at his claw, which was still somewhat attached, but broken. "What do I do about that? Just let it fall off or pull it off?" He asked. Part of him wanted to rip it off- but he assumed that might only make it bleed harder. 

He was provided moss and instructed to hold it down with his other paw, which was already crimson from blood. He knew less than most about using any sort of medicine or healing aids, so he was curious to know exactly moss had been chosen as he, with a fumbling but heavy paw, pressed down on the moss that covered the broken claw. "So what's the moss do? Will it like...Go into my blood and slow the bleeding, or prevent infection, or does it just...sop it up?" He asked. He was surprisingly light-headed, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.