the strong and silent type

The hawk sitting on the boy’s shoulder suddenly took off and flew into a near by tree as they approached and Gwyn started getting out her supplies, making Eilwen huff and ruffle her feathers at the other avian. ”Well, what’s their problem?” the white raven muttered from Gwynevere’s back, but Gwyn paid her no mind. Instead, she focused on getting a rag out of her bag and stepped over to the river to dampen it. She came back to where he was sitting and wrapped the damp cloth around her paw and started to gently wipe away the dried blood around the wounds so that she could get a clean seal around it.

She didn’t even think to ask if he wanted her to treat his wounds. At this point being a healer was easier than breathing to her. It had been all she had thought about since she was a pup. It was only after she started cleaning his wound that she realized she had never gotten a real answer and she glanced up at the quiet man, noticing the questioning look in his blue and silver gaze. Oh, she hadn’t even introduced herself or anything, had she? Her inability to even make conversation was certainly rearing its head.

”Oh, um… I’m Gwynevere, by the way. Or Gwyn - either way is fine.” Well, at least she could say she told him her name instead of being some nameless wolf that came out of no where to treat his wounds. Her ears flicked shyly and she refocused her attention on the puncture wounds. Eilwen gave a little amused chortle at the girl and took off to fly across to a different tree than the one the hawk had settled in, forcing Gwyn to be alone with the boy.

Gwynevere | Eilwen