Hoshor Plains out of the ground i rise to grace

something was going on.
peregrine felt helpless, staring down at the worn paths in the snow. there were ghosts of people he once knew, and others he could not put a name to. ice melts on the tip of his tongue as it flicks out from between his lips to taste.
he felt more alone in this moment than he ever had in his life.
and he wasn't sure why, but he followed it, the sets of prints; he twists between the banks and the hills, squinting beneath the low light of the moon. he did not notice the hoof tracks. he was much too overwhelmed with the unidentifiable surge of peculiar bitterness.

and he did not realize he had been kicked in the temple by a cloven axe, not even when his vision shattered into blistering spirals of red and black and he fell to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Dwin was out again looking for food. For a few days the temperature had risen above zero and some of the deep snow had melted, permitting her to expand her hunting grounds. The idea of organizing a deer hunt, if such opportunity presented itself, had been on her mind for a while. However, each time she returned to Brecheliant, she met the reality of them not having enough of good hunters. Those, who knew the trade, were either too old or far tok few. The rest would simply scare even a lame specimen away.

Still she went out to assess the situation daily and it was lucky thing she did. Lucky for the unconscious young man lying in the snow. Still warm, but curiously motionless. And - he looked familiar too, though she was unable to put a name next to the face just yet. "Hey," she came to stand next to him and nudged his shoulder softly. "Sleeping beauty! Wake up!"

the pack wolves were hunting. 

he had slowly picked apart their winding trails to find many groups gathered for one purpose.

apollyon kept well away. there were enough women here to keep him occupied in interest, but the promise of offal and meat left behind on so many carcasses caused his stomach to cramp with anticipation.

"oof!" he sounded to himself as a man was knocked aside by a bison and lay limp on the ground in the seconds that followed.

a more interesting figure came to join the downed wolf. apollyon sighed and looked in a few directions before he slunk toward them.

the man was a loner. the young woman was a pack wolf. the rogue bristled. "we should drag him out of the way, yeah?" he suggested, starting to search for purchase on the unconscious man's nape.

what a sad, sorry disappointment his life was.
if this was the end, what did he have to show for it? would his family ever even find out? where would they bury his body?
waning in and out, peregrine felt a sharp and shattering ache in his skull. he was cold, and then he was very, very warm — boiling at a slow roil. so uncomfortable that it almost brought him peace at the same time. unaware, blissful in the moments where the pain subsided in careening waves.
he could, and very well should be dead. but he didn't want to die. not here. not yet.

i shouldn't, but i am. >:)

Phox took a break from the larger crowds—even Heph—to spend some quality time alone with the stars like he so often did when the sun dipped below the horizon.

It had been a month or two since Phox had last see his wayward son. Every time Peregrine dipped into his life, he dipped right back out. But it never made feel Phox anything less for the kid. So when he came upon a group huddled over one of his youngest, he was obviously distraught.

Peregrine? Peregrine, you okay? He shot worried glances to the others, panic rising in his throat. What happened to him?

Dwin's memory was neither famous for knowing facts correctly, nor memorizing faces of people she had met only once. But even she felt embarrassed, when it turned out that the guy laying at her feet, unresponsive was the same fellow she had sent away at the borders weeks earlier. "Uh? Is it safe? What if, his head is injured? Or neck - then we should not move him at all," she blurted out, leaning down to listen, if he was still breathing. 

A moment later a third person joined their party and she looked at the older three-legged male with a sense of relief now. Because, if Peregrine die now, they would have to split the guilt of not knowing what to do, in three. "Just found him like this here. I think - judging by the hoof-prints around him, he may have got a kick in his head," she told, looking from one male to the other, hoping that they would know, what to do next. She did not want to risk it. She regretted even coming here in the first place. 

hm. he was unsuited for this.

a man arrived, moaning over the state of the downed wolf. apollyon didn't know what to do either, though he agreed the injured one shouldn't be moved.

"are there healers around?" he asked, pulling his eyes from the young woman to peruse the crowds of bison and wolf alike.

the light was blinding.
he felt as if he'd been gone for a hundred years and yet no time at all. something warm and metallic dribbled down his cheek, and he'd never felt such an agonizing thrum; his skull felt as if it may burst.
there are pairs of legs in front of him, and there are voices, though he cannot discern any of them beyond the awful ringing in his ear — one ear. why can he only hear through one side? panicking, heart thudding; peregrine decides then that he must have died and gone straight to hell.

Phox winced, hoping that nothing horrible had happened to his son. Sometimes it was still difficult for him to believe that Peregrine was his son. So much had happened over the past two years, so much time had been lost. To lose him completely now would be a real punch to the gut, and one Phox was not ready to accept. He barely heard the conversation of the others, so fixated on Peregrine. Phox bent an ear toward his son's nose, listening for the soft sounds of breath.

He's breathing, Phox said, only half-relieved. He didn't know of any medics in Moontide, but he knew two within the moon villages as a whole: Sialuk and @Kukutux. He sent out a call for both, hoping that one or the other (or both) could aid his boy.

Last one from me. You may PP Dwin helping the crew, before going back home again.

"That at least," Dwin murmured, taking a step back and looking expectantly from one man to the other, feeling pretty clueless and therefore useless in the situation. Dad would know, what to do, but he was far away in caldera. They could not drag a full-grown, heavy wolf there without injuring him further. And Eljay in his age and state just was not up to the task of ploughing through the deep snow all the way here. Were he to do so, she was pretty convinced that they would need another healer to take care of him. 

Therefore she sat down and waited for the help to arrive and would be useful to them in any way possible afterwards. 

a downed man.

kukutux murmured her sunshine words over him, bundles of medicine unpacked.

she worked to make him comfortable, but encouraged the others not to move him. "he has been kicked," she told phox softly. "stay here with him. the hunters will turn the herds."

a skin was brought and worked beneath the injured young man; only then did kukutux signal to phox and to the others that he could be moved back to the healing camp.