Walk | Talk | Think Miksa's shoulder had long since stopped hurting him, but he still caught himself favoring his left foreleg as he traveled the length of the Sunset Falls. Realizing it again - the second time that day - he sighed in exasperation, adjusted his stride, and purposefully set about putting his weight on it. No pain, no ache, answered the movement, and yet it still seemed difficult for him to fully accept that he was healed. The pain that had seared through the joint during the fight and the wrenching ache that had lingered after had apparently left a deeper imprint on his mind than he had imagined, and it was taking some considerable effort to convince himself he could trust the limb again. Of course, the ease of movement should have been enough, but Miksa was a cautious sort by nature and thoroughly averse to causing himself unneeded pain. Which made it a wonder, despite his nervousness over the damage he had taken to his shoulder and jaw, that he was even more determined to hone his fighting skills now than he had been before the raid. The raid had been terrifying, yes, and he had come away broken and sore and defeated...but the pack had been grateful. He had seen it in the proud smiles of his alphas, and knew it in the promotion he had been given. He might not have been the best fighter - yet - but he intended to better himself and make himself a tougher opponent for next time. Just as soon as his jaw healed. The scars on his left forepaw had all but been forgotten just days after he had received them, and his shoulder had been able to support his weight again for weeks, but the tearing that had been done to his jaw was still tender. Thanks to the pack's healers, in particular the blunt and stoic Sorrel, it was healing well, but Miksa wanted a full, clean bill of health before he jumped back into the metaphorical ring again. It was weird, balancing between an itch to practice his strength and a strong desire for his wounds to heal before he did. Wounds would heal only so fast, though, and the white wolf was currently practicing patience, something he had never thought to lack but that seemed surprisingly just out of reach at the moment. Experimentally, he scrunched up the left side of his face as he walked, tugging at the wound and feeling the dull, answering discomfort. Not pain, per se, but it still was not quite back to normal yet. How long before it'll be fully healed? he wondered to himself, pondering silently as he continued to traverse the woods by the falls.

She had been patched up well by her cousin, the bruising to her shoulder all cleared away meaning she could properly distribute her weight among all four limbs, though like Miksa, walking predominately on three legs had formed a stubborn habit in her mind. Sometimes she feared the pain was still upon her shoulder, or would return the moment she started using the particular limb. However, she was slowly breaking that tendency, gradually accustoming to the usual only when she reminded herself. Of course, it was much more comfortable though she wasn't entirely in shape. Her neck still ached so she tried to lessen the pain by keeping her head trained still, though that eventually left her feeling even more sore. Then there was her nose; she couldn't even begin with the annoyance of it. Although it wasn't as serious as before, a few scents her dampened smell couldn't pick up remained, proving to be nuisance whilst hunting. But then again, her health could be worse, and she certainly wasn't the only one still suffering the effects of the raid. A pallid form lumbered ahead of her position, sauntering alone with the tranquil waterfall softly cascading from afar. After recognising who it was, she picked up her gentle pace and weaved gracefully through the trees until she found herself trotting alongside him. "Hi Miksa," she greeted cheerily whilst exchanging a small smile, feeling her typical elegance fade into a casual demeanour. A laid-back Varda wasn't quite common, though she found the occasional mood rather relaxing. "I was thinking you could use some company." There was no need to ask him about how he was settling in yet again; after participating in the raid and receiving a promotion, he was undoubtably a true member of Threar. It seemed her trip to the north had happened ages ago; a distant yet fresh and distinct memory in her mind. Though whether he was still as nervous and timid as before remained a mystery, however she was soon to find out. "Talk" "You" Think

Walk | Talk | Think The white wolf was still deep in thought when, above the soothing rush of the waterfall, he heard the soft, telltale sound of paw steps hurriedly touching earth. Though he was nowhere near the border yet, he still reacted with a defensive swiftness, stopping in his tracks and quickly turning his head around to spy the wolf who he realized was approaching him. And, with great relief, he recognized Varda almost instantly. The sudden stiff stance he had taken up relaxed, and a quiet, sighed breath of relief slipped audibly from his dark nose. Just another pack member. Thank goodness. He was not fit yet for another border defense. Just a little slower than he had originally been walking, Miksa resumed his quiet trek, allowing his tan ears to follow the sound and progress that his packmate made as she found her way to his side and fell into step with him. He turned his head to glance at her with a reserved smile, not surprised to see her smiling and optimistic as she had been during their last solo interaction. That must have been a key part of who she was, this bright, sunny disposition. It was nice to see, particularly with what had happened to their pack. They needed a little sunny to get them through their healing time. Though he was unsure whether he agreed with her thought that he needed company, he murmured a soft, "Thanks," anyway. Company was something that he did not often find while he trekked through Threar, and though he might have been uncertain before he felt welcoming of it now. He was a part of them, a promoted member of the pack. That entitled him to some company, he assumed. Trying to make conversation, he offered his own comment, "I was just wondering how long it would be before I'm completely healed again." His quiet smile quirked up slightly at the corner. "I almost feel like the waiting is worse than the wounds itching." Was she plagued by any similar discomforts? He recalled seeing her there to receive treatment from Sorrel, but he had departed too quickly to know the extent of her injuries. "How are you feeling?"

It took her a swift moment to remember she hadn't been the only one injured as a result of the raid, and certainly wasn't the only one still suffering the effects of it. Well, suffering wasn't the most suitable word to use; she never liked being in a disadvantaged state, even if it was just a few wounds. Like Miksa, who had asked the exact query, she wondered how much longer her wounds would take to heal - if they would heal at all. Of course they would heal, they had to. While some were excited about receiving their first battle scars, the refined female dreaded such an impurity to be upon her alabaster fur. Worse off was her nose - she didn't even want to hear about that being permanently damaged. However, she didn't allow the worry to plague her mind for very long, so her exterior features remained calm and casual as she answered his inquiry. "I hope it won't be much longer." Her words were spoken in such a way that inferred she was in a similar position like the male, trying to remain positive in a potentially stressful subject and hoping the optimism would rub onto him. She found it particularly polite of him to take interest in how she was feeling, which made her cheeks slightly blush. "Just like you, I guess." The young woman also didn't know the full extent of her fellow Chapter's injuries, having arrived towards the end of the healer's examine. "The bruising to my shoulder is gone, though I still feel pain in my neck and there are yet a few smells I can't pick up properly. But what about you?" "Talk" "You" Think