Not the exercise you thought it was

Her voice piped up immediately, and he was content to sit back on his hunches and wait. To give her some time. He heard the slow movements of shuffling as she found her feet. After a moment, she was popping out the entrance of the den. His expert eyes trailed across her body, noting the ribs and crusted blood in the parts of her coat not occupied by wounds - and therefore had not been washed in her healing. The unevenness of her gait told him she had not been walking for some time.

God dammit.

He bit back a sigh, knowing it would do him no good. Before he knew it, she was going to have him wrapped about her little paws. “First, we get you cleaned up. Then, we will go through some stretches. The sort that slowly gets more complicated as we go, to find your limit. Today, you will not push yourself too far, and you will speak up when it's too much, even if it's the very first stretch. There is a time and a place to push yourself, know it, know your limit.” He ordered briskly. He moved past her and back into the den, moving through the stock he had placed here for Deathbelle until he found the soaps and cloths he had loaded up for her. Next stop, to Io’s old den. He had, sadly, let it fall a little into disrepair, but his sister had built up a means to heat water. “Come on, it's not far” he instructed, grabbing the stuff and moving out.


"Speech"