His head hurt - and not in the way it usually hurt, either. It felt as though his skull was splitting apart from the inside out, hurting from his nose all the way into the back of his neck. Pax had been pretty much the model pack wolf for the past couple of months, and if he were totally honest about it, it was probably because of that conversation he'd had with Enia. There was something about that girl that made him want to keep his word about sticking with the Woodlands. It was odd that he hadn't even killed one of them yet.
Which was likely where the headache stemmed from. The voices were roaring - demanding, shrieking. Filling every moment with endless wails and curses and sending Paschal's head into chaos and pain. The young wolf had done well to ignore it and power through until then, but it was getting to be far too much. He wasn't sure if they had any healers in the pack, but if they did, perhaps they would be able to give him something to ease the pain.
The vessel wasn't even aware that he was walking until a sharp pain shot through his right forepaw. He sluggishly lifted the limb until he could see the pad, and it - unsurprisingly - had a large thorn deeply embedded through the skin. A tantalizing drop of red oozed out, causing Pax's mouth to water and briefly made him forget about the shooting pains through his brain. Leaning forward, he grabbed the thorn between his teeth and wriggled it around. The pain was bad, but more blood oozed when he pulled it out, and he couldn't help but stare at the thorn bush he'd been walking past.
Without giving himself more time to think, he shoved his forepaw deep into the bush, hissing in an intake of breath but completely transfixed by the crimson rolling down his white fur where the thorns entered. Oh, the symbols that Asheroth would have him write with that blood. His tail started to wag just a bit behind him, his tongue sticking out from his mouth and saliva dripping from his open jaw. The headache wasn't fading, but at least now he had something else to focus on.