Inexperienced he might be, but foolish he was not. Having shoved Tick Tock out into the river, he’d given himself enough time to back pedal towards the injured female, hovering protectively between her and Tick Tock. His eyes never left the scarred female as she regained her balance as well, pounding through the waters to counter his attack. The water slowed her approach just enough for Atlas to fully prepare himself for his first real fight. This was the first fight in his life that actually mattered. Play fights with his siblings were nothing by comparison. He had to save this girl, whoever she was. So when Tick Tock did reach him, he swung his body away from her, taking the brunt of the attack to his shoulder. Her teeth raked through the flesh of his shoulder and he nearly cried out in pain, but instead a strangled snarl erupted from his lips. He lashed out in response, grabbing at her already mauled face, hoping to add to the scars she wore. As they clashed Atlas pushed his weight back against her’s, nearly matched pound for pound he did his best to prevent either of them from actually stepping on the down white wolf that he had come to protect.

The sting in his shoulder flared angrily, two long scrapes having broken the skin, and blood tapered down from the dark brown of his shoulder to the gold and white of his forelimb. He was prepared for another attack, but then the black wolf withdrew. She snarled at him and he matched her furious expression, lips curled back and nose wrinkled threateningly. He would not pursue her, but he would continue to defend his self chosen charge if she decided to make a second attempt to displace him from his protective stature. But instead she turn sharply, splashing out of the river and disappearing into the night. Atlas followed her receding form with pale golden eyes, pivoting to better prepare himself if this was some sort of ruse. Ears strained forward, but her paw steps faded and he was convinced she was truly gone.

He spun then, looking down at the now unconscious female that lay in the icy waters. Lowering his head he nosed at her cheek, trying to wake her unsuccessfully. Delicately he grasped her by the ruff and lifted her bodice slightly so that he could try to drag her out of the water. But as he began to lift her head and neck from the water, he realized the side that was down in the water was completely raw. To drag her in such a way could cause further damage; and he certainly couldn’t flip her over and drag her on the side that the demon shewolf had ravaged. He softly laid her head back down, glancing her mangled bodice over before settling on the only solution he could come up with. He moved around to her abdomen and held his breath before ducking his head down under the water and scooping under her small frame. Lucky for him she was far lighter and smaller than he, even in his half grown adolescence, and with a strenuous motion of his neck he managed to jostle her onto his neck and come back up for air. He wriggled his body and hers, an awkward motion but it shifted her bodice down over his shoulders where she rested more evenly. Her limp paws scraped against his injured left shoulder and he winced, reminded of the injury there, before slowly turning towards the banks and extricating himself and her from the river.

Where was he supposed to take her? He couldn’t very well get her all the way back to Diveen, and he had a deep seeded mistrust of Iromar born into his blood. And if he just left her she would freeze to death in a matter of hours, soaked as her pelt was. Slowly he walked away from the river, angling north back into the more densely forested area. Surely some fox or badger had abandoned a den that he could use to warm her back up. So he walked. He just kept walking, eyes scanning the midnight forest in search of some form of shelter. It felt like hours that he searched, though only minutes had passed, her wet, dead weight pressed upon his shoulders. Though he was a strapping young lad, he’d never had to use his musculature in such a way before. It strained the injured shoulder with each step he took, but he remained determined.

Finally he spotted a hollow in the earth at the base of a tree, and he made his way over to it. Moonlight barely lit the entrance and he couldn’t tell if it was occupied or not. So he lowered his nose towards the opening and sniffed; the scents seemed stale, but he let a growl rumble from his throat for good measure. Unfortunately as he leaned further down into the opening he hadn’t considered gravity, and Fiammetta’s form came tumbling down over his neck. Before he could react, her body unceremoniously slid down into the den, and Atlas’s eyes grew wide in horror. He dropped her. He rushed after her form as it disappeared into the den, relieved to find that there was room enough for both of them in this abandoned set. She had landed with her freshly injured side up, and he wasn’t sure what would be better to expose to the air. He was not a healer! Yellow eyes frantically looked her over, unsure what to do.

All he could think was that she needed to warm up; what remained of her fur was wet, and the freezing temperatures of a winter night would not help her. Atlas laid down behind her, wrapping his body around her as best he could. Gently he grabbed her scruff once more, pulling her body up against his right side so that the raw, burned side pressed into his fluffy winter coat. Carefully he placed her head back on the floor of the den, and then he curled his head around hers so that her nose pressed into the fur of his cheek. He just hoped this would be enough to save her life.