Healers Promise

It was as he'd feared - whoever had wounded Enigma had done so quite thoroughly, though mercifully cleanly. If the wounds had been any more jagged, the trauma to the surrounding tissue worse... But how do you explain to someone that they would never be able to father children? He didn't know how aware of the extent of the damage Enigma might be, or if the pain might mask it, but he couldn't risk leaving him in the dark about what to expect. Tornach wasn't even old enough to have children himself - to have to break that news to someone else sparked a hint of anxiety within him. Steeling himself he sighed, and spoke the words quietly, seeking to keep it for Enigma's ears alone though he could not guarantee that the close quarters would not allow a sharp-eared individual to pick it up. "I'm sorry Enigma - no matter what I do, I can't... You're never going to be able to father children. That isn't to say you won't be able to... do things, you'll still be able to..." he hastened to add, and winced at the subject. "I'm sorry." He glanced back towards the hazel tree, standing proudly among the willows. He'd need a moment to harvest the bark from both trees, and maybe he'd be able to find another herb or two that he recognized. "I need you to clean the wound," he instructed Enigma softly. He wouldn't subject the other wolf to the indignity of having someone else do it after having just been given bad news. "I'll be right back with something for the pain." He turned to trot towards the trees, leaving Enigma to absorb the news.