the journey calls

Tornach would have blushed if he could have, embarrassed but gratified by the praise from both Ashmedai and then his mother. He wasn't sure he felt it was earned; though he'd won, in hindsight he'd made so many mistakes and missteps. He needed to do better next time. As Surreal made her way out of sight, he expelled a deep breath. Mothers, right? the other boy asked, and Tornach nodded quizzically, not sure what he was agreeing with but not wanting to look stupid by asking either. He'd never had a friend... and though he wasn't sure that this yet qualified he didn't want to ruin his chances either. "All right," he agreed far more eagerly to Ash's suggestion of fixing their wounds and then getting something to eat.

He took a moment to look Ash over, walking around him and searching him with both sight and scent, but the cheek wounds did seem to be the only real wounds - he couldn't do much about bruises. Returning to Ash's head he sniffed the wounds over - "This might hurt, I'll have to clean the dirt out," he warned solemnly - and then set to cleaning them carefully while he considered what to put on them... Herbs... he didn't really know many. A bandage, but that by itself wouldn't do much but keep more dirt from getting in it and he'd need to stick it on anyway... "Honey!" he exclaimed suddenly, his licks ceasing and his mind suddenly returning to the broken-open old tree he'd passed on his way here. A bear had been at it and opened up an old bee hive with the bees long gone but the old honey still there, and if he remembered the scent correctly there'd still been a bit left the bear hadn't eaten. Hopefully the bear hadn't come back...