Foul Temper

He was getting angry. Good. It was better than his whining. He limped after her and she stopped. She'd yelled at him about not legging himself heal, so she wouldn't let him keep walking. He made excuses for his behavior and Io didn't want to hear it. There was no excuse for acting like a child.

He asked if she thought he'd be wasting time if he new and the woman scoffed. "I didn't think you would, but here we are." Her anger was beginning to ebb simply because of the pain and fatigue in his features. He was overdoing it. Over exerting himself. "Sit Down, " She told him.

He growled and grumbled and asked her to help him hunt. Iolaire scoffed, skirting in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" He was beginning to shake from the pain. He could very well lose consciousness. "Sit. Down." The tiny woman said in a clipped yet forceful manner. "You aren't doing anything except staying put and healing." She had other ideas.

"I'm heading out. I'm going to meet with other packs and trade my wares and services for supplies." She didn't know how she was going to get the suppies back to base, but she would figure it out. "I'll be making diplomatic relations in the process." Two birds... one Io.

A bit of sympathy seeped into her gaze. "I know you hate it, but the best thing that you can do for everyone is rest. If you stay off of your leg and follow the instructions that Deathbelle and I gave you, you'll be healed before you know it."