ooc:
A sound announcement, if ever there was one. Rather than a reciprocating call, she heard instead the frustrated grumbles and obscenities of what she assumed to be the wolf coming toward her direction. With a quick span of his wings, her companion took flight from her back ascending to a comfortable surveying height to watch what transpired below. Obviously what he hoped to make a meal of was anything but dead. If anything he was more alive as one could tell by the sounds he made, louder than a rampaging elk bull.
The Issor did not know what to make of him at first. At first glance she assumed he was like her charge, blind and in search of something. But she found it odd that an elder male would only just now be adapting to his situation…unless it was an unfortunate recent affliction. An injury.
“You can stay where you,” she called out to him. “I will come to you.” At the very least she could keep him from injuring himself further and stop the smog of profane, verbal pollution. She quickened her steady pace to a trot to close the distance between them with just a little less than a wolf’s length birth maintained out of caution. “My friend,” she spoke quietly. “Shall I help you? You…do not look well at all.”
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