Finding Her Paws

Álarr wondered how long the woman had been outside of Ashen. She was clearly in poor shape, emaciated and weak. When was the last time she'd eaten anything? His ear flicked, catching the sound of someone approaching cautiously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Corbie was there, and he was grateful for his presence for this whole matter was strange to him.

The woman spoke in a think accent, the words he could understand making the situation clear enough. This was a run away slave, from Ashen? Álarr was no stranger to the practice of slavery, even if he himself had no interest in participating. The woman stood shakily, looking up at him. He was about to speak, to ask when she'd last had food but in that moment she collapsed. Shit. He spoke just in case she could still hear him."Rest. You'll be ok." He moved closer, making sure she was still breathing as he hunted for any significant injuries. It seemed mostly to be lack of food as well as exhaustion. He reached out a claw and tugged lightly at her skin. It did not readily spring back. Dehydration to.

"What do you think Corbie? She needs food, water, and rest. My den isn't far from here or we could take her to the barn and get assistance from the other healers." He wanted to be sure Corbie was alright with this. If she was a runaway slave from Ashen there was always the risk that Ashen would come looking for their missing property, putting Avalon right into a conflict. If needed he had an old den in the Knolls where he could keep her til she was more recovered.