Moonfeather had a good point, that sleep and rest was indeed what he needed. It was a mixture of all he knew and did not know about wounds. As he drifted in and out of a drowsy daze he tried to remember what his mother would have told him about head wounds. It was swiftly apparent that he had not paid attention to such teaching, though at this moment he was thankful Moonfeather had. As she shifted to poke through her bag he stirred slightly at her side. Obediently he ate whatever she had given him, trusting her and his mother’s teachings before he finally rested his head on her paws. A quick thought and silent apology to his teacher for being so close to his daughter.

Sleep came swiftly to the silver and brown wolf as all the events of the day slowly started to sink in. With what little consciousness he could keep in his grasp he made sure to position himself so he would lean against Moonfeather’s warm body. It was cold and only to get colder as the sun went down. There would have been little chance he would wake up if the chill froze his damp fur. Final fleeting thoughts were of how thankful he was the healer had been there for him, how he would have to be more careful and observant in the future, and a concern that his damp hide would in turn chill her while she tried to warm him. He thought of how he could thank her in the future for her help this day. As his eyes drifted shut his thoughts flowed from him into the whispering winds outside the cave. This was a night, head injury permitting, he would remember.