He'd been doing his best to help in the efforts to locate the missing as well as tend to the wolves remaining. It was a lot of walking, and a lot of stress on his joints, but in the grand scheme of things his comfort mattered very little.
His back twinged, insistent.
As always, he ignored it.
Later. He would look after it later. Other matters were far more pressing at the moment.
On top of the search for the lost, he'd been focused on attempting to find any last remnants of late-blooming herbs that he could scrounge. Psilocybin mushrooms were on the agenda for the day - it seemed they might be useful, after all, to help certain members of the pack cope with everything. If they'd take them, that is.
He'd found a few, and, triumphant, managed to get halfway back to his stash when his hind leg slipped and something shifted slightly and pain shot through his hip. A sharp yip escaped him as he flopped gracelessly to the ground, flat on his belly. The pain, while intense at first, gradually tapered off into more of an ache, and he sighed softly with relief.
Still, he didn't feel up for moving just yet, but he didn't want to just lay there, so he managed to sit up, leaning down to check on his aching hip..
(This post was last modified: Oct 15, 2024, 02:25 PM by Riven.)