Zal was never the type to just confront somebody or ask of any assistance, and that was how he ended up as he did. Blood covered the short cropped fur on his left hip, leg, and paw as it continued to drip down his limb. He had been hunting, too stubborn to back down from an adult buck protecting his herd. Zaliki was now to suffer the consequences of his decision, far too shy to ask for help. Deciding the punctures would heal by themselves with cleansing, he let it be, and began his travel to the lake.
Thorn bushes and shrubs grabbed at his leg, causing a throbbing ache in his hindquarters as he hobbled through the overgrown brush in the path he had taken. Zal already regretted this journey, and sighed under his heavy breath as he finally met a clearing in which the lake rested. Hesitating slightly, Zaliki stepped forth from the tree line and into the sun, crisp chocolate eyes focused on his main goal; the water. He needed to clean his wounds before they scabbed over or collected bacteria, and limped swiftly with a determined look on his face.

As he met the water's edge, mud and sand squished between his toes as he waded into the water, gentle waves caressing his coat and rinsing away the blood. Dipping his head, he lapped at the clear water to the right of him, sure not to swallow his own blood. Zaliki stayed quiet as he drank and cleansed himself, figure submissive and tail wagging passively; he did not aim to stir trouble, or attract attention, simply to fulfil his needs.
After his pelt was clean, Zal took to the shallows, trotting onto the bank as mud once again squished underpaw. Sitting back easily on his right hip, Zal looked around.