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Missing some of the pieces
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He came as quickly as he could; the note of panic in the rippling masculine howl had spoken of urgency and pain. It was not Haven's wolf voice, but rather the baying of a husky - of Leroy. And the one thing that could move his prideful heart would be the lanky she-wolf that had stolen it. Jacquez had never fallen in love, so he could not relate - wasn't even sure that he was capable of it, but he wasn't stupid enough to miss it when it was directly in front of his eyes. The tall collie-dog loped along the beach, dark mane tied behind him as he barked a reply. Help was on the way, whatever scrape the lovers had gotten themselves into.
The king was greeted with an ugly sight - Svara's lean body was riddled with wounds, her fur soaked with blood, her tail mutilated, her fur ripped from her skin. It wasn't enough that the girl had already had her eyes gouged out - someone had deliberately mangled her and left her to die. He could smell the musk of an unfamiliar male - one person had done this alone. "Fils d'une vache! Is this some sort of message? Do we have enemies?" he snapped crisply, dropping to his knees at Leroy's side. He was no healer - that was, ironically, Svara's position - but he had seen and dealt with enough flesh wounds from fighting on the streets. "Must stop the blood, make tourniquet," he muttered to himself, single hand roaming about the ground for materials. None of the three of them wore any clothing - fabric was the easiest to use. Perhaps he could make do with a tough seaweed, as it would not rip. They could lash spars of driftwood to make her a stretcher. "Get ahold of yourself, Leroy!" The Optime snarled, smacking the tears from the husky's cheeks. "She's not gull food yet! Help me find some ropes, fabric, kelp, anything we can tie a knot with!"
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