There are no bad feelings towards Tristan for pointing out the idea of the hunt, and the injury wasn't terrible. It might need to be looked at, and he might need to take it easy for a few days, but he's not fussed about it. They got the meal, and that was what counted. It made Solitaire feel good to know he could work well as a pair, to be able to hunt with his brother and gain success from it. He was elated by this fact, and it gave him hope for later times when he would need to be able to work for a bigger group than just two. If he could do that, he would be a worthwhile packmate.

That was what he wanted, after all. To be a part of Glorall in such a way that he made some kind of difference. Not a big one, but even something like helping to bring down a meal was enough. He would try to do more, of course, but it was one step at a time in re-learning how to be within a group of wolves like this. The best part was that he wasn't being forced to do much of anything but find a way to pull his own weight or get kicked from the pack. That wasn't a bad ultimatum at all, and Solitaire embraced it. He had a reason to be here, and he would cling to that.

Solitaire keeps an eye out on the bull seal before he leaves, and the mother seal as well, though she doesn't follow them. His attention was on Tristan for a moment at the sound of the whine, and a soft sympathetic sound vibrated within his throat back to his brother. Then they were dragging at the seal pup, finding a safer place (the mother seal's gaze being out of sight made him feel safer), and it was a relief to finally find said place. Looking Tristan up and down gave him insight on the injury that looked pretty bad from this angle, and Solitaire was starting to feel more concerned over the matter.

His own wound wasn't too bad, even if it stung and made him limp, so that was shoved to the back of his mind. The laugh lifts his mood a little bit, however, and he chuckles at the fact they were both checking out each other's wounds and so forth. "Shoulder pain, little bit of bleeding, nothing too serious. But you should have your flank looked at..." He pointed this out quietly, and when the question came he shrugged. "Up to you. Mine's fine enough to eat through, but I'm worried about yours." And he was. He didn't know how bad it was, but the blood was pretty dark. That wasn't a good sign, right?

[ male ] [ six ] [ unmated ] [ imprint; striker ] [ glorall ]