Ghastly Woods as they bury you alive

Chan sat atop a snow drift, front leg bent to rub gingerly at his face. In particular, his poor left eye. Of the few insects that survived the blizzards, of course one had made it's way under one of his eyelids. Particularly nervous about scratching the organ, for once the man was hesitant in his actions. It left him immobile, waiting for either the tears to push the creature out or someone to come along that might be able to help.

Around him the sky was ramping up it's assault on the earth, the flakes falling from the sky growing thicker and increasing in number. Soon even with both eyes working it would be difficult for him to see far. Good thing he was highly familiar with the area, but that didn't exactly make the mountain easy to climb in bad weather.

He let out a breath of frustration and watched the warm cloud it created whip away in the wind. What the hell.

Even through the chill, the doe-stripped trunks pressed in close, dark boughs reaching. Dry and brittle snares of bramble and had snagged at her, earlier; had caught on her cheek, her shoulder. But this bone-chill has numbed her to bead-blood scratches, and they of her. The snowflakes had been soft and fat  —  quite some time before she'd entered this sunless grove-gut.

Now, though, they froze in the nooks of her hide, melting into the shivering skin below. Whatever light there is remains to slant and dapple through the crowded hinters. It doesn't matter much, of course; lest she'd want to be blinded by snowdrift, the greenseer was forced to squint her way forward.

Hunched; picking her path with ginger, searching steps;
and then, with a turn  ( and an ooph! ),  Nell bumbled her way right into a likewise distraught figure.

"Oh—!" Forgive me died on lips dumb with cold.

As the wind picked up and the branches began to creak under its power, Chan found himself deafened to the approach of another wolf. He didn't notice her until she collided with him, soft voice issuing into the frigid air. Alarm was first to enter his mind, as instinct would dictate, but he calmed quickly when it was recognized that it had been a simple accident.

One watery eye squinted into an unintentional wink, he gave her what ended up being an odd but earnest smile, meant to let her know there were no hard feelings.

"You okay there?" he asked over the weather's deep hum.

It was as if she'd — well, the both of them, perhaps — had been drifting for hours like abandoned ships on a sea without a horizon, only to list and happen upon another by blizzard's chance. Nell looked into the face that crinkled at her; the one that tried to peer into hers, with indeterminate eyes, and one of which that teared;
before something-or-other rustled and rummaged 'round beneath the lid.

And so it was yet another moment that the yearling often wished she hadn't so keen a herbalist's eye.

If she hadn't choked on her tongue, she might've proffered many an I'm sorries and As well as I can be, despite it all and chimed vaguely about the weather that currently attended them. Instead, though, Pimpernel found herself clumsy; lurching away at the sight of the whatever-it-was that had made a home beneath that odd, winking brow.

... But perhaps then she felt a tad ashamed of herself, and returned to the older loner with a bowed head and a guilty kink in her tail. "I suppose I'll ask the same of you. Forgive me," a sheepish nod towards his person,
"but, might there be ... err, some thing that ails you?"

A selfish, girlish part of her didn't want to, and squirmed in protest.
Her mother would've tsk-tsked at her, though: There is worse to be found that this. You'll see.

Hadn't she already?

Her reaction caught him a bit off guard, but he realized what the issue was quickly and lifted a bent leg once more to try and block the afflicted eye from sight. His lips pulled back in a sheepish, apologetic smile as his ears folded. 

"It's okay," he was quick to assure her, "I'm okay. You don't gotta stick around. Just. Managed to get some kind of bug in my eye and it's not coming out..."

Annoyance was evident in his voice, but he didn't feel the girl held any responsibility in the situation. She certainly didn't owe him aid, and if the sight made her queasy he wouldn't force her to continue subjecting herself to it.