The haze was lifting from his head and he could think and see more clearly. His muzzle hung down to his chest though his dark eyes flicked to Amata when she questioned him. Oak did not think he had broken any bones, or else he would be in much more pain than he was in now. He wiggled his knees and gingerly moved his arms around. There was definitely a soreness but he could still move his limbs freely. He lifted his head and shook it at her. No, I don't. My head hurts and I'm sore, everywhere, he explained in a flat tone.
Oak heard the note of exasperation in her voice and felt his heart sink, looking at her with a meek, shameful expression. I've never fallen before, he spoke in frustration with himself. Had he been more careful, or never even climbed the tree in the first place, he would have been spared the beautiful girl's annoyance. He would much rather have impressed her with competence and maturity, and instead he was like a helpless, unthinking pup in her eyes. He winced again as she touched the tender flesh around his headwound, though he enjoyed her gentle hands.
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