BABY I WOULD DIE FOR YOU | sprained paw

Terrible day for walking through meadows. Not there was any that he would have any sort of preference for the business, but "membership" required things like cooperation and playing his part. Dresden was anything but a slacker (as far as this bunch of stranger knew), and thus: he was patrolling. He hadn't bothered to request company for the trip, instead ignoring the insistance from several NPCs that he take others with him (something about wars and potential threats, which he scoffed at), and maybe it was only his refusal to comply with expectations that brought up his misfortune.

That was what he would tell them, anyway. He already had the words spun together, the sheepish smile he would produce, the perfect flow of self-deprecating and ironic words prepared when he came limping back into the Observatory post-patrol. "Hey, can someone help me?" he called, the smoothness of his voice ticking up with the hint of embarrassment. He ducked his head accordingly, a faint laugh escaping as he added, inflicting a hint of humor into his tone, "I know, I know, you said not to go alone. Karma, I guess. I think I sprained my paw." He held the slightly twisted paw up, and there was the sheepish smile. Just another boy playing bashful when something went wrong because he didn't listen, as usual.

(Sometimes it was so easy he felt a little bit bad.)

[size=9pt]I know, I know, you said not to go alone. "I did." Confirms Moon, perhaps a touch gruffly, lips drawn down and gaze pinched ever so slightly, disapproval evident. "'Less you're looking to get a pirate hook to the throat or Sunhaven's manic head honcho on your ass, I'd recommend you listen to me next time." He's already got his old Cleric's bag spilled out on the ground, though, and he settles down unwillingly by the stranger's side, motioning for him to give him his paw. Maybe Dres wanted to die - and Moon didn't blame him - but this massive mess of corpses and raids that'd been pilling up on their backs the past two weeks was something Moon took seriously, and he wasn't interested in this guy spreading the word that you could waltz out on a border patrol alone and expect a sprained paw to be the worst of the consequences. "Gimme," he mumbles, holding out his own paw, and then pauses to turn to Agathe when something dawns on him. "Hey-- give Azazel a shout for me, would you?"

[member=2471]azazel.[/member]

The Halo's wounds had completely healed, so it was no wonder that Azazel was able to move faster than he was, his right wing tucked neatly between his shoulder blades as the left had been. His leg was no longer as injured, either, so there was no worry about having to limp along. As it was, however, he still expected pain to shoot through him at any moment. There was none, but his progress was still a bit hindered by the fact that he still expected it.

Azazel still made it over fairly quickly, mostly due to the fact that he was not a far distance away. Moonmade was already there, and as the pup got closer he could make out the scent of herbs. He couldn't pick them apart, yet, but the situation was enough to clue him in. "What do you want me to do?" He asked as soon as he was close enough, standing near his mentor and staring at the herbs that were spilled out of the bag. Hopefully, Moonmade would help him; he couldn't distinguish the herbs just yet.