It had been a long last few days and an even longer since he was forced from the tribe a few weeks ago. Godric was trained and taught well enough to be able to survive on his own but it was an entirely different world on the outside without the protection of the tribe on his side. And why he had been forced to leave seemed small to him but something he could understand but it had been a choice all his own. And castration was not quite what he would go for, knowing his entire masculinity depended on it and without it he would lose the ability to fight he had trained for months for and even trained to this day in order to protect it. And just by looking at him, he was obviously healthy even in his time away when some of his muscle tone had disappeared due to wear. With a steady home he was sure he would be able to build himself back up in no time.
Godric's fighting ability was still in tact, he had learned, when he caught a black and white male a few days ago on the other side of the mountain. There had been no pleasantries and the connection he might have with others never slipped his mind. He fought and left the male for dead, whether or not he survived at all; it was not his concern. But the concern he did have was the never closing gash on his arm. Apart of the training had been how to take care of himself but he had not the proper supplies and any extra movement his arm caused tore the wound right open but it was inevitable and he could not keep it still. He had to keep moving, he had to hunt in order to feed himself, and defend himself if it came down to it. But since the wolf he encountered days ago, no one had been on his trail and he was smooth sailing into a territory of packs he knew nothing about.
The large coyote knelt down by a small stream where the water looked cleaned. He ripped the dull red bandanna that had been tied to his arm and dropped it in the water, cleaning it of the blood and puss that formed from the infection eroding in his arm. It was disgusting but he had to keep it clean until he could find herbs to take or apply directly. His short supply had run out two days prior and he knew he needed to get on the ball about it. He dipped the cloth into the water and picking away the dead skin and scab until he was satisfied, and only then did he bring it up, shaking the water from it in order to begin cleaning the wound. He flinched occasionally when he struck a nerve but after a couple of times of cleaning the wound and the cloth, he was able to wrap it back up from the elements. He rewarded himself with a cool drink and sat by the bank for a few minutes longer to rest his well traveled legs.