Verdant Mosses they say they can smell your intentions

This guy was about as quiet as she normally was. His sentences were short; clipped. The laughter he offered sounded forced. It caused Kip to wonder if, perhaps, the two of them were more alike than she'd first imagined. And while she was curious to find out what had happened to the boy to give him such injuries, she was never one to pry too much. Instead, she just said her piece, offered her help, and waited for him to respond accordingly.

He seemed surprised that she knew anything about herbs, to which Kip gave a little half-smile. In the mountains, there wasn't much for her to do other than learn. She'd spent so long with the older wolves - the healers and the philosophers and the mothers and grandparents - learning and putting her brain to good use that she had a mound of information about many different subjects. Like how to make a lever, or how to treat superficial wounds. Even a thing or two about the sky, though she'd save that for another day.

'Sure, if you’re not sick of helping me out already.' The statement was met with a grin as Kip got to her feet. "Oh, I'm sick of it. Just not sure leaving you alone like that is the best idea. You did just pick a fight with a bison," she pointed out, already mentally running through a number of herbs that she could use to treat his injuries. Wormwood would've been best, she thought, but she didn't really have time to run all the way up the mountain and back. Most of the plants she could think of either belonged in the mountains or in meadows, neither of which were anywhere near the two of them.

But then she glanced to the side and her eyes widened in surprise. There, as though some higher power had placed it just for them, stood a white fir tree, among the fallen and rotten trees of the green place. It wasn't particularly strong-looking, and may have been dying, but the bark would help with the injuries. So, the young wolf trotted over to peel a piece of the bark off with her forepaws, and then took it back to place at the black wolf's feet.

"It's not delicious or anything, but it should help for you to eat that," she told him, running appraising eyes over his injuries. "Have you even washed those yet? Like with water?" Because mouths had a tendency to be filled with all sorts of gross stuff that got wounds infected.

He did not miss the small half-smile that tugged at the corners of the girls lips when he asked about the medicinal herbs. He did not know if she had made the expression out of embarrassment or pride, though he hoped it was the latter. Knowledge was a powerful thing, something that most certainly appealed to the young male. He became curious then, as he wondered what else the girl might know and if she’d be willing to share some of that knowledge with him. Surviving in the wild on his own was already proving to be tough, though he would never admit that to anyone.

Deaglán looked up to the girl, a hopeful glint in his golden eyes, as he waited to see if she would agree to help him out some more. He wouldn’t blame her if she refused him. They hardly knew each other and he wasn’t her problem. “Oh, I'm sick of it.” Her response made him nervous but the grin which spread across her face gave him hope. “Just not sure leaving you alone like that is the best idea. You did just pick a fight with a bison,” He frowned and turned to face away from her. “I did not! That fat cud chewer totally had it out for me. Probably smelt the blood on me or something.” He assured her, giving an irritated swat of his tail.

Glancing back over, he noticed that her attention had drifted elsewhere, towards an area of fallen trees. He raised a single brow curiously and watched in silence as the girl trotted over towards a rather sickly looking white fir tree. His dark brows furrowed in confusion as he observed her stripping off a piece of bark from its trunk and then greeted the girl with a puzzled expression when she proceeded to place the strip of wood at his paws.

“What is that for?” He asked, totally bewildered as to why a strip of white fir bark would be useful. Then she instructed that he eat it and Deaglán began to reconsider the whole plant healing thing. “Erm, hold up. You said herbs a few moments ago and now you’re saying that I have to munch down on a fricking tree?!” His muzzle wrinkled and his pearly white teeth flashed out from behind his charcoal lips in disgust. He wouldn’t do it. He didn’t trust her. He’d probably get splinters in his throat. The whole idea was far too ridiculous for his liking.

Deciding in that moment that plants were not the way to go in terms of healing his wounds, Deaglán returned his attention to tending to his wounds the normal way – by cleaning them with his tongue. His ears flattened in annoyance as the girl asked if he had washed his wound yet. What did it look like he was doing? “No, is my tongue not good enough?” He partially snapped, shooting her an expectant look.

A roll of her eyes accompanied his argument against picking a fight with a bison, and another smirk crossed her maw. "Oh, I'm sure," she said sarcastically. "In your defense, you don't seem like much of a threat right now." She was a bit distracted, as she was still trying to figure out how to best treat the dark wolf in her mind. If she had been focused on him, then she would have definitely come up with a more scathing insult.

Speaking of, after she did happen to find the white fir bark, the asshole didn't want it. Greenish eyes rolled back so hard that she could have gone blind, and she frowned her displeasure at the black wolf. "Look, you don't have to trust me, but I do know what I'm doing." Kind of. "Besides, if I wanted to hurt you, I probably just would've let the bison trample you." To prove her point, she leaned down and nipped a sliver of the bark off and chewed it up. "See? It's safe. It heals wounds," the girl griped, tail flicking in displeasure. "Now stop being a bitch and eat it."

Inwardly, she kind of regretted swallowing that thing. It was gross.

"Do you treat everyone who saves your life like this?" she asked after he snapped about cleaning his wounds. "Jeez, you're a total nightmare. If you're fine with getting an infection and possibly dying, then sure. Your tongue is enough." It was a lot of sarcasm and growling for the situation at hand, but to be honest, Kip wasn't used to helping other wolves, and especially wasn't used to helping wolves who were dicks about her trying to help them.

Inhaling deeply through her nose to calm herself down, Kip released the breath slowly. "The bark of a white fir tree is good for helping heal wounds, and there's no way it can hurt you." Maybe if she explained it, he'd feel more comfortable. "Water is good for cleaning out the wounds because it's usually much cleaner than the inside of your mouth." Now she could introduce herself, as she was beginning to feel awkward with both of them not knowing the other's name. "My name is Kip, and I seriously am not going to hurt you. At least, I'm not going to hurt you if you try not to treat me like shit." And even then, this guy was way too hurt for her to harm further. He was kinda pitiful.