the strong and silent type

He was grateful there wouldn’t be a lot of ground to cover on his way home. He ached and he was filthy after the spar with the Armada boy. He was ashamed of himself for losing, especially when he had been so close to victory. For a long moment he debated his return to Fireside, and was more thankful now he hadn’t seen much of his pack in attendance. Maybe he could get away with no one knowing what happened. Baronziah flew above him, her sharp eye one him as she wordlessly worried about him. The pair made it to the edge of the river when Ysmir slowed to a stop and the white raptor landed on his shoulder.

Dirt covered the left side of his face where he’d fallen during the tournament. His right shoulder was swollen now that he had been walking, the punctures stopped bleeding by now but his leg was also coated in it. Ysmir left the gathering before any healer could make it to him, his pride stung the most and he didn’t want to be looked over. Now that he was faced with the river to cross he was already regretting his rash decision. He huffed lightly as Barenziah preened her feathers, offering no solutions.