Aindreas

Skin was stitching together slowly, fibrin closing torn flesh slowly. Immense shiny skin was painted over him, providing stark contrast to his flowing ivory hairs. It was both ugly and beautiful, his lack of symmetry giving him an unkempt appearance... And yet it was rare for a wolf to see another's bare flesh. It was always covered by a thick pelt, and it was only when that coat was torn from its epilliations that the below flesh was able to be seen. From afar, those who did not know him, those who did not know about his recent deeds would dub him a leper, diseased, compromised. The problem with a white pelt was that it stained easily, no matter the substance. However, Aindreas was lucky in and of the fact that he had friends who were healers. For a long while, his pelt had been stained not only with blood, but with the dull palate of herbs that had poulticed to his wounds. But when the wolves from Aurora Borealis had come to Moondown Shadows to talk about the alliance with Striker, Aindreas had found Sebring and Khaleesi, the two apprentice healers from his father's pack. They had allowed him to bathe before redressing his wounds. The original set of filth that had been planted on his skin had been scrubbed clean, and to his surprise, it was only clear serum that chose to seep through his pelt, and they dressed his wounds with minimal herbs. But those had lasted but a few days and he had taken a bath, washing them from his skin, which had resulted in the naked flesh that was now appearing.

Just because he no longer required dressings, however, did not mean that he was fully healed. He still moved with a limp, muscles were still bruised, swollen and stiff. The only thing that made him feel better was to move around - it stretched out his muscle and increased the circulation to his wounds.. It hurt, but it helped. His fibrotic wounds stretched and threatened to tear, but it never did. Instead it continued to have sharp pain... And then the deeper dull pain. It was persistent, but it was stand able.

Unlike the previous days that he had spent aimlessly wandering around Moondown Shadows, today he had a purpose in his movements - he was heading toward the pack next door to check in on Losa. Though he was healing, he wanted to ensure that she, too, was on the mend. The little bird had been through more than almost anyone could imagine, and he wanted to make sure that she was not only going to make it, but was going live. There was a difference between surviving and living - you could be alive without living. Was she ever going to get rid of her fears, was she ever going to be able to get over this, would she ever be able to trust again? Aindreas knew the fae, but did not know her very well... But she reminded him in part of his little sister, Blayre, and felt protective of her.

Arctics searched through the wood for her, but it was by Hellene's den that he finally found her, resting. Gently, his nares pushed against her flesh until he roused her. "Sh... It's okay Losa, it is just me... Aindreas... I came to check in on you."