Step One: Get Out Alive

His breath was ragged, jaws parted wide and head tilted downward as blood pulsed from the wounds on both sides of his muzzle. His nostrils had become clotted and fur of his face, neck and chest were coated with the thick red liquid since fleeing the plains. He was lucky, he'd managed to break away from his fight with the two beastly women before they'd gotten him on the ground to finish him off. He wished he could have kept fighting for his packmates, but if he'd stayed he would have been done for; they would have to fight their way out of it themselves. Following a trail of blood, he knew he would find a packmate soon - having not seen where the rest had fled to, he opted to follow this one, if anything just to see what would become of the pack. Would they regroup and rise again, or would they dissolve entirely? Where would that leave him?

Stumbling into the estuary, his shoulder and ribs aching, he would see Enigma with his back against a fallen tree, some stranger snarling at him. The hostility was obvious. Xephyris limped a little more hastily toward the confrontation, only to see that someone else was intervening already. He arrived just in time to hear the boy asking Enigma's permission to clean him up and stop the bleeding. Perplexed, Xeph looked between the two strangers, stepping closer to his pack mate so that he too was facing the unfamiliar wolves. "What's going on here?" he demanded, grunting in pain as he felt pain shoot through his lips. Silver eyes shifted to Enigma, "Is he from Abaven, or Imperium?" His gaze would move back to the older male as he tilted his bloodied muzzle downward to let the liquid drip from the end of his nose.