Oh what a day

[Slaying the Dreamer]

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Slaying the Dreamer

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OoC: Does this count as a fight? lol Deep concern etched on his piebald countenance, Slay tried to peer over the golden wolf's skull, to gauge what sort of injury he had sustained. When he saw more blood than he expected, he inhaled sharply, blue eyes dark with worry. "Ril'o, don't move around, okay? You're going to make it w-" His smooth voice was cut off by the sudden lunge, the youth staggering past him with fangs bared. The arctic wolf side-stepped agilely, mind racing to find a solution. He needed help - Ril'o was only going to make himself worse, disoriented as he was. Slay was already tired from the watery plunge, and his waterlogged pelt was beginning to freeze in the chilly January air. As if proving his point, Ril'o skidded and fell on the slick ice, struggling to make his shaking limbs obey. Frowning, Slay dug his blunt claws into the frozen surface, ready to knock the youth down again. If he would pass out of his own accord, Slay could at least drag him back to shore, and maybe call a shifter to bandage his skull. He found himself praying the wolf hadn't done any serious damage - it would be a shame for the playful flaxen-furred boy to lose his amiable personality. Goodness knows, they needed more nice wolves in this pack. "Ril'o, listen to me, this is Slay. Slay, remember? Friends with Cercelee? You hurt yourself, I need you to calm down for me." He kept his voice clear and strong, hoping it would cut through the haze that was glassing over those dulled emerald eyes. Who was 'Dutch'? Was he hallucinating? At first Slay thought it was a curse he had uttered, but no, it was obviously someone's name... Shaking his ruff abruptly, the big male tilted back his muzzle and let out a howl, a deep resonating cry for help. He had rescued the youth from drowning; now he needed medical attention beyond Slay's physical capabilities. He just hoped the aid would arrive before Ril'o got worse... I've got soul but I'm not a soldier

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