He could tell that the tawny healer wanted to tend to the ebony guardian himself but he complied to Lachesis’ request without protest. The ghost offered the younger male a small smile and an encouraging wag of his tail, for he did not want Lorcán to think he was punishing him. Lachesis had, unfortunately, arrived too late on the scene to get a look at the shit-covered bandits; therefore, sending Lorcán after them was a better option. The pale leader also wanted the healer to know that he still trusted him, even despite the recent issues. Lorcán had done nothing to prove that he was disloyal to the pack since his arrival. He had even sought out acceptance within Hearthwood to be with his daughter—which proved he was loyal to his family. And despite Inna and him keeping it a secret from the rest of the pack Lachesis did not fault them for that. They had already broken pack law and obviously wanted to raise the child together. He was disappointed, yes, but the anger had quickly subsided.

Plus, there was more important things at hand.

Like the thieves and Aytigin’s injury.

“Thank you,” he called out to the healer as he followed after the bandits, his tail wagging once more before he turned his attention to the ebony male. A sigh rolled off his tongue as a crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Alright, let’s get this shoulder looked at,” he instructed with a flick of his nose in the direction of his medical den.