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She grinned as Rémy went on in his strange accent and words, and was distracted by his eccentric behavior as she was suddenly pulled into their hunting excursion. Sparrow guessed that she did not mind--after all, reporting back to Myrika could always wait until later that day or until tomorrow, since she had nothing urgent to say. Besides, the company seemed enjoyable, and the chance to socialize with her clan mates that she had not caught a whiff of for the past few days was interesting enough for the woman.
She nearly began to step up her pace so that she could keep up with the cur dog, for her was moving swiftly, but the white man spoke, and to stop herself from being disrespectful, made her speed as steady as Max's. "I don't mind at all, really," she murmured with another smile, though her words trailed off and lips faltered a little when she noticed the stitches when he moved his hair out of the way. Either her eyes were not as sharp as she believed them to be or Rémy's fussing that kept her from noticing, but it was not until she spotted the small stitches for her acknowledge the other bumps and scratches she did not recall seeing since her leave.
"What happened to you? Are you okay" she asked softly, her voice more worried than it was demanding. Sparrow jumped to a million conclusions, but the most prevailing thought in her mind was Max's well being. She remembered the happy beast with the toothy grin and gleaming eyes, but now that she looked closer, all she could see was a soured and seemingly defeated creature. And it worried her.
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