ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

The air was sharp under the midday sun. With every deep breath, the frigidness stung the wolf’s throat as he sought out the scent of ptarmigan. He had seen the little bastards scatter at the sight of him atop the neighboring hill and now his belly rumbled in a haunting song. The wolf will feed today. Orwynd followed both the tangy earthy scent of the birds and their footprints in the snow until they lead him to a massive shape deeply embedded in the ice. The male stopped and squinted against the reflection of metal and blindingly white snow. A human creation. He knew of stories of the two-legged creatures but had never come across a structure as big as the one before him.

Weak. Orwynd thought as he approached the ship. Surely they had to be weak beings to have been wiped out from these lands with nothing but decaying erections of stone and rust. Hieroglyphics and tombs of what once was. Wolves rightly ruled now, and while Orwynd often rejected structure and law, he could agree with the notion. The massive craft dwarfed the wolf as he neared, and his neck ached as he craned his head to take in the sheer size of it. At least here the ship blocked out the radiant sun.

Orwynd peered into the snow and quickly realized he was not alone. The prey in which he hunted has passed here, their footprints disappearing into a small rift in the ship’s hull. Smart, the wolf mused as he approached. Utilizing the seemingly impenetrable walling of the craft was canny, but that meant there was only one way in and one way out. The wolf promptly pushed his head into the small dark opening and was greeted with an abandoned nest. Orwynd groaned. He would have to search elsewhere for the birds. Taking a step back, the wolf moved to pull his head out and found himself caught. “What the fuck?” He grunted aloud. He planted his feet firmly and yanked back, but his head did not budge. A surge of both annoyance and panic surged up his throat and erupted from his lips in a moan. Orwynd would continue to try to pry his head out from the hole, hoping by some miracle he could free himself before someone stumbled upon the embarrassing sight.

The tiny wolf was sick of the cold. It clung to her, it curled into the pads of her paws. Her nose was dripping, and her eyes stung. she had gotten turned around far from her pack lands and honestly wasnt sure of the way home. She had brought her medical bag with her, and if worst came to worst she could eat the berries she had stored there. Hunting in this frozen wasteland hardly sounded appealing to her.

When she found the form of the ship in her reach of her vision, she began to angle towards it. She saw it as a wind breaker, and a place to camp well she figured out her way home. She approached the ship carefully, the old scents of wolves stale in the air, giving the impression a pack had once resided here. She circled the ship, caution first as she sought for any sign of life.
Ahe found life alright, in the form of a wolf, butt hanging from the ship.
Well, this was awkward. What was he doing?

It took her a moment to understand his situation. He was struck. Once the healer realized this, she could never simply leave him. She approached more confidently now that she realised her profession might come in handy. "Sir, if you could stop wiggling for a moment" she called out kindly as she approached, letting her voice warn the man that she was there. "Im a healer, and I believe I might have something that will help you"
She explained.
She stopped beside him and begun to dig around in her kit, giving him a chance to respond.

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

The man pulled and heaved with every ounce of strength he had to combat against his slippery footing. He couldn’t quite grasp enough leverage to make any headway, his paws and nails scraping against the snow and ice to no avail. Orwynd snarled out curses and promises to swear off entering a 50-mile radius of human filth if only he could free his fat head.

“Sir, if you could stop wiggling for a moment.”

While the voice was gentle and feminine, Orwynd’s body jerked violently in surprise. He had not caught the scent of another wolf prior to his dilemma and was horrified that he had been caught in such a peculiar fashion. Nonetheless, the wolf settled and huffed hard. Of course, it had to be a woman. “Y’know, normally I’m stuck from the other end.” Orwynd responded shamelessly in a muted voice, not entirely sure if she’d be able to hear him. Visions burned through his perverse mind as he envisioned ways to repay the kindness of the stranger who hopefully would save his sorry hide.

"I'm a healer, and I believe I might have something that will help you."

At that moment Orwynd was glad she couldn’t see him for he made a mocking face at her declaration. He had come across many healers in his travels and couldn’t help but swath them all into the same category; righteous hippies with a deep connection to the earth. The male laughed mentally but did not emit any vocalization. He was at her mercy at the moment. “I’ll take your word for it, doll.” Orwynd called, angling his head to the side in another fruitless attempt to dislodge himself.

The man jerked in surprise, and she wouldnt be surprised if he would come away from this with wounds around his neck. She eyed him critically, and let him adjust to her presence before coming any closer. He made a comment, and well she wasnt quite certain of its meaning, she could theorize that its meaning was crude. Ignoring that for q moment, she went through a mental list of her carefully crafted salves and came to a decision. "I doubt you have much other choice" she commented blandly at his second comment. She had the vague impression she was being mocked, but she let her professionalism take over.

With a stern expression over her muzzle, the experiance healer grabbed out a jar of sunburn cream, that she had perfected with Hannibels help. She added a little more of her preservation oil to it, turning it into a slick, oily substance. It had the soft sent of aloa vera to its creation, among other things. She never settled with just one herb, but experimented and crafted something greater from everything she cultivated.

"This will feel cold" she warned him, as she moved to his side and began to pour the salve across his neck, sighing internally at the waste. She carefully moved it across his neck, and painted some onto the ship side for good measure. "Alright twist slowly to the left and push yourself backwards." She instructed the man, finding purchase herself in front of him. He had about five inches of height on her, and she was able to slot herself in between the wall and shoulder, and would shove against the wall if she felt him complying to her instructions.

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

Orwynd could not help the shudder that raked through his body as the she-wolf poured something across his neck. The slick mucus type liquid caused his toes to wriggle in discomfort, but he held still long enough for her to finish her application. Orwynd you fucking idiot. The wolf thought, awfully flustered at being the damsel in distress. While he was not a heroic wolf and would most likely leave a lady to her own demise, he didn’t quite fancy being the butt of this joke.

"Alright twist slowly to the left and push yourself backwards."

Just as he began to pull he felt the female press herself between the metal sheet of the ship and the bulk of his chest. A tremor passed through his body again. She was tiny. Fearing the worst, Orwynd leaned back with all his might, squeezing his eyes tightly as a deep burning etched into the soft flesh behind his ears. With a loud and unceremonious pop! Orwynd flung backward into the snow landing sloppily onto his rump. His fur was slicked every which way, adding to his disheveled appearance. A line of beaded blood formed at the split in his skin past his ear, and he scraped at it with his paw.

Momentarily blinded by the reflective snow, Orwynd blinked hard and eyed the female wolf as his vision adjusted. His fears manifested in a look of bewilderment and revulsion. She was practically a newborn. I can’t believe I said that to a pup. The man recollected his earlier comment. Although it was an exaggeration, the girl was too young for his liking and was promptly crossed off the list of potential playthings. The man shook his head hard, standing and letting the motion sling snow and the viscous substance from his fur. “Thanks.” He said finally, fur plastered against his skin. “I guess I owe you one.” Not. The wolf said subconsciously. Orwynd nodded at the she-wolf’s little bag of trinkets and herbs. “What was that stuff?”  

Setting herself against the ship did more in helping him find purchase, then allowing her own slim form to push him free. She heard the 'pop'of his release, before she felt the lose of his weight. She managed to keep her feet through some quick, if unsteady footwork. She shook snow from her coat, and got back to business. There was a hint of blood in the ship where he had gained his freedom with a cost.

Glancing back at the man, to get her first true look at him, she would see his state. She hid her smile as she moved over to his side. He looked a little worse for wear, with her salve in his coat, sticking his neck fur in all the wrong directions. She could see and scent hints of blood, which she already knew about after her look at the ship.
"That was a salve for sun burns, with a quick alteration"
She explained. She carefully packed away the mostly empty jar, feeling another pang of regret. That had been a good mix, and it had talent her a decent portion of a day to make it. Ah well, it was still used in the name of medicine. Sort of.

"The rust from this material can be as dangerous as a cut from a dirty claw. If you want to even that score, would you allow me to clean it and patch you up?" She asked, already thinking through what she had in her pouch. It would require some heavy duty cleaning, no patient of hers would wind up with infection, it was a matter of professional pride.

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

Orwynd’s nose wrinkled. “Sun burns?” He echoed. The man tried to think in what manner a wolf would be injured from the sun. True, in his younger years he made a gambling bet with a sparrow whether or not he could hold a gaze with the sun for a longer amount of time, but his eyes did not burn. The thought tumbled quickly from his head as the salve glazed his wound. That burned. The wolf winced and shook his head again hard as the dark-colored female approached him.

“Patch me up?” My, he seemed much like a parrot today. The wolf stretched out his legs to the ground and eventually came to a rest in the snow, angling his ear towards her. “Sure. Only if you have something in that bag that’ll give me a wicked scar.” He said through a chuckle. Bitches love scars. As he awaited the she-wolf to begin her treatment Orwynd stole another glance at her. She was a young pretty thing, albeit a little plain. She had rather striking eyes. The man gently breathed in her scent, embedding it into his subconscious. Imprinting. “What’s your name, girl?”

The wolf caught a glimpse of movement in the distance and let an irked growl slip through his lips. The damn birds that got him into this mess were dancing on the hillside in an almost mocking waltz. He would feast on one of them soon enough. “My name’s Orwynd.” The male said finally.
  

By the wrinkled nose and surprise, Riva guessed he hadn't seen a wolf with sunburn before. “Never met an Albino wolf before?” she mused with gentle amusement. It wasn’t a common ailment in any other type of coat, it was the curse of an albino wolf. She had winced when she had first seen Hannibal’s scabby skin, and had been quick to offer him her aid and a solution. The man didn’t seem to quite know what to make of her, and mimicked back some of her words in confusion. She glanced at him, wondering if he had banged his head a little well he was trying to wiggle his way out of there. She scrutinised him, and packed the thought away to consider, if he showed any signs of a concussion she would take the appropriate actions. “Normally its the lessening of a scar that’s part of my profession” She teased him, sitting beside him as she sorted through her belongings. He didn’t look to me in too much pain, She grabbed one of the clean mosses from her bag, and a jar of water infused with trillium. She poured some of its contents into a small bowl and began to carefully clean the wound. She wasn’t too concerned about the aloa vera, knowing it could also be used to clean a wound. Once she was satisfied that there were no foreign elements in the wound, she pulled out a poultice of white willow bark and cinnamon, and patched it over the cuts. She ensured it was clean and tight, before stepping back. “All done. keep the patch on until tomorrow, then allow your wound to air out.” she instructed him "Speech"

ORWYND
everyone who isn't me is an enemy

The man shrugged. “No, I haven’t. What a stroke of misfortune.” He pondered what that would look like, what it would feel like. Would afternoon strolls be out of the question? The wolf thought of his midday naps, basking in the sun, feeling the warmth seep past his skin into his very being. “I like the sun on my fur.” He mused aloud, watching the dark female sift through her possessions.

“Normally its the lessening of a scar that’s part of my profession.”

Orwynd chuckled. “Well then rub some dirt in it. I want to look like I fought off a bear.” He offered with a laugh, angling his head so that she had better access. The little wolf got to work, seemingly so focused she hadn’t heard his question. Orwynd smiled patiently and allowed her to work, priding himself that he was quite the ideal patient. He held still, didn’t squeal when her actions grew rougher as she cleaned out the grit from the wound. When she was finished the wolf flexed his ear, feeling the thick poultice caking the side of his head. Her instructions were clear, though he was sure he wouldn’t follow them. “To whom do I owe thanks?” Orwynd prompted again, bringing himself to his feet. The man shook out his fur, careful not to dislodge her hard work. “I’m Orwynd.”

Casting his eyes to the far hillside once more he saw the collection of fowl foraging through pale stalks of grass. “Hungry?” He asked with a nod towards the birds, taking a few steps away from the she-wolf. “It’s the least I can do.” Seriously, the man thought with the flick of his tail. The absolute least is all he would offer.

“It is at that” she agreed. Her own dark coat absorbed the heat well, and hot days could be a pain, but she had never experienced a sunburn herself. She didn’t have to go through winter, afraid of the sunny day that would reflect the sun off the bright snow, until every part of her was exposed. She winced at the thought, and remembering the delicate pink of her friends nose. Yes, she was very glad she was not an albino. He was easy to work with, holding still, and moving to let her reach the higher points her little frame would otherwise have struggled with. He nudged for her name, and she looked up from her work, her expression more than a little distracted after placing her patch over the fine marks that coated his neck. “Hmm… Oh, I’m Riva” she introduced herself, offering him a warm smile, full of brightness and innocence. “It’s was a pleasure to rescue you, Orwynd” she teased him gently. “I wouldn’t say no to a bite” she admitted, being reminded of her own situation - somewhat lost in the Northern territories, and having little experience in hunting on the harsher terrain. "Speech"