“Thanks.”
Was he relieved that Askan was willing to help clean an injury he couldn’t reach, or that the beta wasn’t going to look too deeply into the way the older wolf had phrased his request? The male melted further into the earth, eyes closed as the other Rye wolf started to nose his ruff out of the way, cleaning the laceration as gently as he could. It probably wasn’t ginger by anyone else’s standards, but Reyes reckoned it was tolerable. The ragged edges of the wounds stung, the entire rip much larger than the one Askan himself had caused a few weeks earlier. Shit, Icicle really was a tool, wasn’t he? Even Reyes knew better than that.
Still, he said nothing, his breathing slowly starting to even out as the guardian got to work, doing his best to ease the damage caused. (Next time, Reyes wouldn’t assume the fucker to be a ‘good pack wolf’ or some goddamn lotus-eater along for the ride. Fuck that noise. That guy knew what he was doing. He was just playing a game with the rest of them.)
“Mhm. Maybe in a few days,” he agreed. Hopefully, if he just stayed put for the rest of the night, the wound would heal up enough that any little movement wouldn’t split it back open and send blood cascading down his shoulders again. The jawline across his shoulders was met with a wince, uncomfortable huff, and Reyes gave a little squirm. Damn Icicle. Ruining his favorite position. “Think we could…uh…reorganize this a little?” he asked gruffly, pointedly staring at the wall. “If you wanted to stay, anyways.”