It was too bad she didn’t enjoy the short poem. Though, he supposed the ebony female wouldn’t. She led a harsh life, as was evident from her scars and tendency towards brutality and there was little time to appreciate beauty when one was too busy surviving. Closer to her, he could see the tired glassiness of her eyes. It had been so long since he had been on his own that he had forgotten the simple benefit of having a den ever night that could survive the weather. Chael wondered if she had spent most of the night out in the blistery cold winter. He watched her body stiffen slightly, resisting the urge to be near him. So prideful, he thought and a gentle smile formed on his lips as he tilted his head with adoration. No matter. I can be the weak one, Chael concluded and he shifted closer her. From his run here, he had worked up an excess amount of body heat that was trapped in his thick fur. Winter had never bothered him because of his luxurious coat, but he knew others were far less fortunate.
“I am checking in.” He answered as he snuggled into her side and his skin rolled happily with the company of her so close. He was surprised at how soft her fur was. He wanted to bury his face in it and feel it against his sensitive whiskers around his muzzle, but he refrained from doing so. Instead, he raise his head and looked at the plethora of scars that littered her bodice. There were so many, none of which would have detracted from her appearance. At least, the older ones wouldn’t have.
Lastly, his eyes rested on the gnarled skin of her face and shoulder. From the wound, he could tell that a mountain lion had caused the damage. His heart swelled with pride that she had face off against such a creature and survived it. They had caused her to loose in cultural attractiveness, but there was nothing Chael didn’t love about them. They were a statement that she was resilient, even if she were currently in the state of healing. His eyes focused on the fresh blood that had dried overnight on her shoulder. This type of wound needed a lot of care from an experienced healer. Chael wondered where she had gotten treatment, for it was clear the skin had been pressed back into place as best it could be. Still, though, further attention was needed. The wound had to be kept clean to avoid infection.
Impulsively, before even he could analyze what he was doing, Chael reached to her shoulder and began to clean the injury on her shoulder. When he realized what he was doing, he stiffened in a brief pause, and glanced at her warily, expecting to be bitten for his further invasion of her space. He said quickly, “I apologize – I did not ask. Could I help clean your wounds?”
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