Luck was not on the boy’s side. It seemed like the north just wasn’t the place for him, no matter how many times he returned. Things were bad for him up here. His experiences with rye fields, lone wolves, wildlife. He just couldn’t win. It would have made sense for him to cut his loses and return to the draw border, call for Garmir and spend a few nights protected there- but he wanted to keep exploring.

He found himself back in the forest, comforted by the familiar security of dense trees for the day. It was cold, a little damp along the floor, but noting miserable. That was- until the rain started. It seemed to come from no where, a sudden downpour. The yearling was quickly covered in it, his fur drenched, weighed down. He let out a sharp howl of annoyance, whining while he walked. There was no way to escape it. The raindrops became larger, heavier- they hurt. The droplets were quickly freezing from the cold, becoming large chunks of hail. “Oh no,” he snarled, dashing through the forest in desperate need of shelter.

The yearling heard the voice before he saw the woman. He had been too focused on sprinting to realize he had company. The hail was incredibly inconvenient and unwanted. It stabbed at his back, thudding against him with each drop. It wasn’t unbearably painful, but it still hurt. He just wanted to escape it. He didn’t want to stand around and make friends with strangers, so he simply barked at the lady and jerked his head to keep running.

He sized her up as he ran, deciding she was no threat. She clearly had no intention of attacking. She wouldn’t have made herself so obvious if she had. It was hard to catch her scent on the breeze, so he couldn’t quite pinpoint her to a pack. Was she possibly a loner- like him? It was too rainy to notice whether or not she was well-fed, so he simply shrugged it off.

“Stupid rain,” he snarled, glaring at the sky angrily. He turned his attention back to the lady, but simply shrugged his shoulders. They would need to find shelter.

Things were chaotic. The sound of the storm, the pain of the heavy hail, the woman’s arrival. It was a lot of sensory overload. The boy could not keep his attention on one thing in particular, moving his focus from straight-forward to the woman. He slowed his stride when he saw she was trying to keep up, allowing her to match his stride. It was then that she fell face-first into the ground. Ouch. The boy watched in disbelief, taking two more steps before stopping. He couldn’t just leave her like this, could he? He sighed, shook his head and then moved back towards her. He offered his help by pressing his body weight against hers, making himself stable and trying to shield her from the rain. “There’s an abandoned den close to here,” he reported calmly. “Follow me.”

It might slow him down. He wasn’t sure just how quick the woman was, but she clearly was clumsy. It didn’t matter. He was doing his weekly act of kindness by inviting her along.

In response to the lady, the instinctive boy snorted in dismissal. He wasn't going to leave her here now that he was already helping, it didn't make sense. He had set his mind on it and there was nothing she could say to change it. The rain wasn't pleasant, but he was already soaked. It didn't matter. "Don't worry about it," he rebutted dryly. It wasn't the worse deal in the world. Softening his features, he tried to offer her a genuine look of reassurance. He didn't have any plans, no pressing matters- a little stroll wouldn't kill him, hail or not. "Besides, you don't even know where the den is."

He tried to focus more on her now that they were talking. It was clear tripping had caused her a bit of pain, something the boy had no knowledge on how to fix. He was not a medic. He sighed, returning focus to the forest in front of them. Shelter wasn't too far away, but would she make it? "How bad does it hurt?"

Vaken wasn't a big boy. He probably weighed the same as the woman beside him, maybe even less. He couldn't carry her. They'd both look foolish trying it, but what other options were there? She'd just have to tough it out. Ouch.

The boy tried to estimate a time, his brain spinning in circles when he considered the slowness of their speed. It wasn’t far, but they weren’t moving especially fast either. He pressed his lips in a tight line and make a clicking sound with his mouth. “Ten minutes?” It seemed like a solid enough answer, though he may have been rounding down a fair amount. It would definitely feel longer than that, with the painful hail and her wounded ankle.

He did feel pity for her. He had never wounded a bone like that. It was apparent from her limp that it was incredibly difficult to move on. He wasn’t a doctor, he didn’t know how to help her other than offering more support with his body. “Pretty klutzy huh?” He teased. He didn’t want to make the walk there worse than it needed to be, surely poking fun at the situation would help. “You fall often?”