As his healing progressed, Tornach had been working on rehabilitating himself. He was getting old, and simply didn't bounce back from any sort of injury the way he'd used to, let alone being crippled and blinded and burned. So he'd been taking it slowly, carefully increasing the distance from Valhalla he traveled as he relearned how to walk with one less good leg, how to navigate obstacles with one less eye, how to compensate for his torn and burned ear when trying to hear. It helped him on a purely emotional level to get out, too, away from the constant eyes of the Valhallan pack wolves. He'd never been a particularly vain wolf, but he was still painfully aware of how drastically his appearance had changed, how the sight of him must affect others now. It hurt him a lot more than he'd have ever expected it to, to be... deformed. It had never bothered him to see and treat others likewise injured, but to look in a pool and see a stranger staring at him...

So he spent as much time away as his body could handle, and otherwise had remained curled in the alcove he'd been given the use of. And yes, it had been strange and painful to be there once again with all the memories, but he knew that it was well past time for him to confront the pain and sadness those memories brought him - though perhaps it would have been better if he'd confronted that sooner rather than having it compounded by the misery of his wounds.

By this point in his healing he'd been managing some overnight time out in the world, though not much, and this was the furthest he'd pushed himself. It was good grazing land, better than in the southern part of the west that was mostly arid, and he had to wonder why his mother had chosen to remain there, had fought for that place, even though there were better places to raise a pack. He'd never asked her, and he was too late by many years to do so now. And then his brother and his niece had both chosen to remain there, probably out of tradition at this point. He supposed if he died at this point, Regulus or Aurielle might choose to bury him there. Or maybe not, if he died alone out here. He didn't think he particularly cared one way or the other.

On that particularly grim thought, he lowered himself carefully down to rest beside the river that flowed still somewhat grey with the ash that the rains still carried down. The healer in him knew that it was just the depression that came from struggling to recover from life-changing injuries, but even knowing that it was far easier to let himself fall into it.

The volcanic eruption had taken its toll on the elder woman. Due to her age, it had taken longer for her to recover than those of younger age in the pack, but she was still alive and still breathing. Her voice, however, was raspy now thanks to all the smoke she had inhaled. And she had violent coughing fits often, too, that left her with sore throats and fatigue after particularly violent ones. She used the remedies she knew to help curb it, or at least lessen the pain that the coughing brought to her chest and throat, but her raspy voice was something she likely wouldn't be able to fix. Did she mind? Sort of. But also not really. She was already old, her days were numbered. For all anyone cared to know, her raspy voice could be an effect of old age. Though her constantly dry tongue made it difficult to speak at times, she seemed to always persevere. She supposed it was a good thing she didn't talk much, even since she was a child she had always been a quiet one.

The night was cool and pleasant, and since she couldn't sleep thanks to her coughing fit, she decided to take off and go for a stroll. She of course let Zell know before she left just in case she took too long, he'd come and check on her. That, and she hadn't been out much since she'd been ill for the last couple of months that she didn't think it wise to venture out. With the light of the moon and stars, she headed towards the river she knew cut through the land, feeling the familiar tug in her throat that she knew would be the beginning of a coughing fit. Emerald eyes searched out the water, desperately almost, as she moved a little faster towards it.

As she approached it, her attention and priority was wetting her tongue, though as she looked at the water still gray from ash, she recoiled her head. She knew it wouldn't be pleasant to drink...but it was that, or deal with the coughing. And she didn't know how long it'd last this time. In the short time she took to decide, it had begun. She coughed and sputtered, the dryness of it evident as she fell onto her haunches from the force. No way would she drink now, she'd likely choke if she tried to drink while coughing. Instead, she waited for it to subside as she sought to do her breathing exercises when she was able to, and after a couple of long minutes, she was able to eventually catch her breath for a moment.

And then she noticed him. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the male not too far from where she was. Heart still pounding and her throat raw, she looked away as she stared at the murky water. "Ap-ologies if I dist-urbed you," She said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tornach raised his head as a woman hurried past him to the river, only to draw back and hesitate - probably at the sight of the ashy water, he thought with some sympathy. It was hard to bring yourself to drink water that swirled with gray. But when great, wracking coughs shook the black and white form, Tornach rose to his good legs in concern, but didn't approach her. He didn't want to startle her in her coughing fit, what with the somewhat... startling... state of his face.

When it finally subsided she seemed to just notice him, and rasped something out. "Please, there's no need to apologize. Are you all right?" He limped forward to join her. "I know the water doesn't look particularly palatable, but you should drink, if you can."

The male asked if she was alright, and it only drew a slight tug of her lips. "I try to be, but the...eruption...has taken its toll." She rasped, green gaze rising up to meet his. "Though it seems...I'm not the only one...affected." She drew a sad smile as she looked at him. She didn't look at him with pity, but at the fact that he too, had become a victim. It had been harder for the older wolves to get away without injury...not only had she been affected by it, but the elder warrior in her pack had been, too. Still, they seemed to hold on. Clinging to life in any way they could with whatever they could. This man had survived much like she had...and the burns running the length of his face and shoulders were a testament to that.

"I know the water doesn't look particularly palatable, but you should drink if you can." She glanced at the water again, her ears pressing back against her skull at the thought of drinking that. But...he was right. It was better than nothing, and she sorely needed it. Her throat was raw, her tongue dry. She needed to drink to curb the coughing fits where she could. So with a deep breath and some hesitation, she finally stood and shuffled her way to it to drink. She took a few, slow laps. Grimacing at the taste of the water, but despite the bad taste, it was helping to soothe her burning throat. When she was done, she lifted her head to look at the male. "My name is...Kestrel. I'm Lirim's healer."