Luck could not have played in their favor, but it was only whom she could thank for arriving as swiftly as she had. It was luck that lead her to Inferni so early and it was luck that stole the boy away from further mutilation and death. But still, it was an unkind mistress letting one of her own come to harm to this extent. And knowing this the she-wolf was not offended or angered by the boy's refusal to her aid. If anything, she understood whole-heartedly and did not let it discourage her from her helping hand.
When he complied at last making sense of his place again, she began to work on his back rolling a coarse tongue across his wounds to pull away the dried blood and debris. It began as a slow, thorough process, digging deep within the wound to completely cleanse it of the chance of infection then followed swiftly to a quick, careful rasp to smooth the rebellious fur. Her tongue had gone numb during the ministrations tasting not the bitterness of blood or the grit of dirt as she brushed it away then swallowed thickly, wetting her tongue to begin again. Having been on the receiving end of this many a time in her early seasons, she imagined the pain... the sting, such treatment must have caused him though she promised it would not hurt him too much. As her beloved Shepard had done for her, so did she reminded the male in her care in gentle rolling octaves of her voice that this was for the best. He needed to endure this trial if he wanted to be well again. Soft growls soon rose to a more sound reverberation as she placed silent words to the melody of her hum to soothe his weary soul.