S.O.S (save our sheep)

He wasn't sure what to do with the damn thing. She'd bloodied her nose in the fall but aside from that he could see no injuries. One thing he'd noticed when he tried to pull her to her feet was that she was favoring her front left one. Hopefully it was just a sprain. He knew nothing about broken legs but it seemed like a death sentence for a prey animal. It was said that a young animal bounced back better than an older one so maybe if it was broken there was still hope. Healing wasn't his forte, however. That was Alarr's game. Maybe he would take a look at the lamb when they got home.

Tyrian glanced back at the woman as she approached. The mistake she'd made was an easy one. Companions like the ones he had were common, but very few of their kind bothered with keeping prey animals for meat. "Oh she's not for eating." The lucky ewe was much too valuable to be a meal. At least for now. Once his herd was full of her babies and grandbabies it might be a different story. "I keep sheep," the woman didn't need to know he only had the one currently,"and this one ran off and get herself hurt."