Most creatures, upon reentering consciousness, do so with sudden and harsh jerk. However, there is a rare few among them that melt from the darkness into the light, slowly and gently, as one might melt into one's bed after a long day of work. It was in this easy manner that Ferox awoke, taking hold of his body inch by inch, feeling wakefulness spread to each limb as his awareness piqued. He tried to open his enchanting, lilac orbs but managed only a sliver, whereupon he had to shut them almost at once in order to block out the harsh light that assaulted his freshly blooming senses. Feeling dizzy from even that minute action, he let his head fall to his front paws once more, cushioning his chin from the hard earth beneath. He wasn't entirely sure where he was, and he couldn't do much about it anyway, for every muscle felt useless and weak as though he had reverted to a newborn. He tried to shift to a more comfortable position but soon let up as an agonizing pain in his side became apparent. Worse than this though, was the heat. At first he had experienced it as a delicious sensation, chasing out the winter's chill that seemed to have burrowed deep inside his marrow, but that soothing warmth had soon grown into a biting heat that ravaged him from the inside, scouring his head clean of all but the most base instincts. The desire to drink not least among them. His throat was on fire, dry as a bone and aching as though he had coughed all night. Swallowing some saliva, he attempted to calm the pain that way, but it only served to worsen the intensity of his need, urging from his chest a hacking cough which caused the ache in his side to alter into a mind-numbing crescendo of agony. Ferox whined, casting about for something solid to bind him back to this world, something to prevent the pain from dragging him back into darkness. He did not find anything that would be of use to him in that way, although he did come upon something even better. Water. The scent of it drove him wild, and he somehow found the strength to lift his jaws, reaching for it. Thankfully it was close, a pool of cool liquid cupped in a large leaf, and he felt it tickle his chin tantalizingly. Without hesitating he began to lap, the water acting as a cooling salve on his burning insides. Before his thirst was sated, his tongue scraped the leaf blade and he let his head droop back to his paws, eyes still tightly shut. Now that his whole being wasn't focused on mere survival, he began to cast back into his memory bank, trying to remember anything about his current position. Faces and happenings swirled before his minds eye so swiftly he struggled to follow them, and it wasn't long before his strength failed him and he felt himself being pulled back into the bowels of his own mind.

Ferox cast about blindly, his eyes stinging from the salt and his side ringing with a pain quite unlike anything he had ever felt before. A large wave engulfed his head and he panicked, splashing with his front paws until he found the surface and emerging with a splutter as he choked on sea water. A mere few moments earlier he had been refreshing the scent marks on the borders of Diveen when his paws were stolen from under him and he toppled over the cliff edge, landing hard in the surf far below. He presumed that the rock face had crumbled under him, weakened by its heavy load of snow and softened by the constant stream of meltwater that trickled down its flanks. Not that it mattered how he got into the predicament he currently found himself in though, the current problem was how he was going to get himself out. He couldn't see anything for the waves that blocked his view, and the dark clouds high above his head sent down torrents of rain that didn't make seeing any easier. Just his luck that the first storm of spring would break at precisely the moment he needed the sun most. The only certainty he felt was that if he stayed where he was, he would drown. So he struck out, trying to ignore the way the frigid waters stole his breath and filled his pelt with ice, dragging him down. Only heaven knew for how long he swam with the current, but to the alabaster wolf it seemed like centuries before the churning ocean spat his bedraggled form onto a windswept shore. He managed to drag himself above the tideline, despite the agony in his side, before he finally lost consciousness

This time the white warrior awoke with a start, his head ringing from the dream he had just had. Except, it hadn't felt much like a dream, and the pain he had felt had not subsided, only worsened the more wakeful he became. Even in such a dismal state, Ferox managed a resigned sigh for his own stupidity. Imagine falling into the sea? He could only wonder what Heyel would say when the news reached him. If the news reached him. It was a scary thought, and one Ferox did not care to dwell on. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the sudden brightness, but his pupils soon adjusted and he deduced that he was inside a low-roofed den. He turned his head to assess his haven, noting craggy walls and roots still leaking sap. A musky scent told him that he was in a modified badger's sett, and that the original resident hadn't been around for quite awhile. But, someone else had. He detected the scent of wolf, although it was marred by the pungent aroma of herbs. He could taste the acrid flavor of some at the back of his throat, and he had to fight the urge to retch. Thankfully, whoever had dug out this den and dragged ferox into it had also replenished his makeshift water dish, and he finished every last drop without delay. Only once this was accomplished did he try to move, assessing his injuries. His head was no longer fuggy with fever, although his chest still felt tight and ragged. His side too was sensitive, flowers of pain blooming with even the most subtle of movements so that he soon gave up and lay still. Other than that, he seemed to have come off relatively unscathed, aside from numerous bruises spattering his skin.

A long, low growl erupted into the silence of the cavern and it came not from the hunter's mouth but from his stomach. He was left to wonder how long he had lain there, incapacitated, and for how long he had gone without eating. To him, it felt like a very long time. His only hope was that his mysterious savior would return and bring with them energy-reviving food. If they did not, well, he would most probably starve to death. Not that he doubted for one moment any wolf in their right mind would leave an Angel to die, especially one as well bestowed and as handsome as he. No, they would be back. He just had to be patient.