Don't ask why

“You're not helping me, you're helping yourself because you're afraid!” He snapped back at her. “If I wanted your help it wouldn't be to tell me what to do.” It wasn't his fault that Selene was too afraid to actually enjoy life. Instead, she seemed to want to police his.


He was pulling himself out of the mud and shaking it from his coat when Selene suddenly broke off mid word and started to fall. Citadel through himself forward as fast he could, his paws slipping on loose stones and slick with mud. He was too heavy, too slow and he failed to catch her as she tumbled past him and landed hard on the ground. He skittered back down the slope after her.


Was she dead? Wouldn't it be easier if-- no! Not Selene. She was a brat, but she was his brat. He pushed down his panic and crouched beside her. What would Ollie do? He'd feel for a pulse. Citadel did that, his time as the healers apprentice coming in handy. It was there, she was alive. Now what?  She was covered in little cuts, but it was the head wound that really mattered. He needed to… bind it. “Rook, get Ollie!” He didn't have enough experience for this. Doing his best not to move her, he pressed his paw against the wound, applying pressure. What else had he learned? “You're going to be okay, Selene.” He told her unconscious body.