Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

The tiny wolf was sick of the cold. It clung to her, it curled into the pads of her paws. Her nose was dripping, and her eyes stung. she had gotten turned around far from her pack lands and honestly wasnt sure of the way home. She had brought her medical bag with her, and if worst came to worst she could eat the berries she had stored there. Hunting in this frozen wasteland hardly sounded appealing to her.

When she found the form of the ship in her reach of her vision, she began to angle towards it. She saw it as a wind breaker, and a place to camp well she figured out her way home. She approached the ship carefully, the old scents of wolves stale in the air, giving the impression a pack had once resided here. She circled the ship, caution first as she sought for any sign of life.
Ahe found life alright, in the form of a wolf, butt hanging from the ship.
Well, this was awkward. What was he doing?

It took her a moment to understand his situation. He was struck. Once the healer realized this, she could never simply leave him. She approached more confidently now that she realised her profession might come in handy. "Sir, if you could stop wiggling for a moment" she called out kindly as she approached, letting her voice warn the man that she was there. "Im a healer, and I believe I might have something that will help you"
She explained.
She stopped beside him and begun to dig around in her kit, giving him a chance to respond.