Redhawk Caldera I'll let the waters still

Bron. Something about that nickname caught in his mind a funny way. He was directed back to the rock which had been nudged toward his lips again. He caught what she'd said and processed it for a moment before he murmured. "Eat rocks." He pressed his lips against it, and it was only then that he noticed the difference in its texture, smell, and the way it boughed lightly under the pressure of his muzzle. He licked at it, and found the taste disgusting but it ended up in his mouth anyway, and was chewed and swallowed more out of surprise than choice. He spluttered, his sides shaking as he swallowed down the urge to vomit. It wasn't a rock, it was a plant. Wolves didn't eat plants. He was still confused. 

She'd said his name earlier, but now spoke it in its entirety, which made him think back to a few moments ago, when something had triggered in his brain. "Shug?" He asked. Sugar Glider always called him 'Bron,' all the way back to when they could barely speak more than nicknames and burbles. It made sense, though he couldn't figure out why she smelled so much like Fennec. Fennec also called him 'Bron' but he simply wasn't in that corner of his memory. He felt pressure along the top of his head and growled, baring his teeth in a way that was somewhat feral in expression. Of course, he didn't realize she was still assessing his wounds- but the cougar had hooked its claws at the base of his skull and had dragged them all the way down over his brow. While Fennec minded the gouges in his flesh, it still hurt to have the sensitive, swollen parts of his head touched.