Word count: 458 // +3 points
Yupp! It’s fine
It seemed that Alduin was becoming fond of wandering around the continent, and running into people was apparently norm. It was no surprise to him that he’d spied another stranger from a distance; it was odd, however, that the coopery scent of blood was wafting in the air. For a moment, he hesitated and his ears and tail snapped to attention. The stranger bore the colors of an old foe. Whether it was the same man from his past or not, the Alaskan wolf couldn’t be sure; the smell of blood was far too prominent for him to distinguish the stranger’s scent from it. With a wary eye and cautious steps, Alduin made his approach.
“Salutations, stranger,” he greeted kindly as he slowly made his way to the injured beast.
As he drew near, he saw how the colors of the man were wrong for his enemy, and promptly quickened his pace. All airs of caution were hastily dropped, for now his concern was not for his own life, but for the bleeding stranger a few steps before him. Admittedly, the black-furred man looked stranger to Alduin. He’d met many wolves in his life since coming to Nova Scotia, but there seemed to be something much different about this one. It was obvious he was a canine, but something told him that he was no wolf. Regardless of the injured brute’s lineage, however, Alduin still kneeled before him from a short distance with an eagerness to help reflecting in his eyes.
“I am afraid that I am no healer,” he began, “and I do not carry bandages with me. I can try to make do with these pants, though. I don’t believe I find myself fold of them anyway.”
He smiled sweetly and chuckled. No, he never liked wearing clothes. The feeling of cloth on his body seemed wrong and it was too constricting for him. He didn’t see a need for such things anyway. He began to remove the article of clothing, and as he did so, a small creature bounded out of his pocket. She hissed her disapproval as she landed on the ground beside Alduin, staring up at her companion with accusing eyes.
“Sorry, Amelia,” he apologized quietly. “Come now, this man needs our help.”
The weasel stuck her tongue out at Alduin, displeased with his actions; but when she laid eyes on the beaten creature in front of them, she promptly dropped her angry act and approached him curiously.
“You die?” she inquired bluntly.
Alduin nudged her with his foot, trying to convey that her words were rude. He didn’t correct her verbally, however, as the question posed was one he was curious about as well.
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