If Wishes Were Fishes
08-10-2015, 05:29 PM
His injuries were not severe, not enough to warrant panic, but they were more serious than a simple tumble. Not that she was prone to panic in such scenarios -- though she had not had a lot of practice on strangers, she was confident that she knew enough to help this one. There was no room to grow frantic. Though her eyes showed her worry, and her brows were furrowed tightly in concern, she was calm even as Hárekr slipped back into consciousness and jerked away from her. His paw lifted to touch the right side of his head. Instinctively she moved forward, as though meaning to stop him, but she paused before touching him again. "Don't do that," she said, her words coming out more sharply than she had anticipated, though her voice held more hesitation than anything. "It'll make it worse. If you let me clean it out I'll be happy to." Her offer came gently, and she would lower her head as he tail curled near her hind paws to assure him that she held no ill intentions. If only Novel saw me now, she thought quietly to herself. Surely she wouldn't perfectly comfortable with Ara helping a stranger in the darkness of the night. This was dangerous, yes, but she couldn't leave a stranger lying here in pain and rubbing dirt into his wounds. Not without trying to help him first. "My name is Ara," she offered carefully. What more would help him trust her, if anything? "I come from a pack north of here called Fiori. I am taking a trip and figured I'd scout out the river and decide where I'd head tomorrow." She didn't mention her wife; it seemed safer to not, for who knew what kind of man this was? Right now all she could gather was that he was hurt and a bit confused. |
