Open wounds and salty meets [open]

[Baorn]

He fled in a blur from the scuffle he'd run into. In his mind, the Nomad were after him and so was the dark wolf who worked for them. Baorn hadn't known betrayal in his time the man who raised him. Loyal Baorn kept himself obedient until the day the man croaked. He didn't die of natural cause. A wolf killed him. The fight began with determination to revenge his master. It ended in stark realization that he had lived a lie.

Boarn hunted animals but wolves were a first on the tragic day he made the decision that Nomads were not right in their ways. Still...Baorn found himself close to Nomad Territories once more. The familiarity of cooked salmon and Talu offering him comfort where he shouldn't be. That's when he encountered this wolf he fought. It was like a mirror of what Baorn had done weeks earlier, only this Nomad was smart. Send in the bait and the nomad takes the shot from afar.  Baorn braced for the crackling sound of thunder each time the stranger wolf howled for his master. Life seemed to flash in and out, a white light here, snapping jaws and flying fur there.

Baorn found a spot near a tree where he settled down panting from the run. Taking in his stature, his fur lay missing in patches on his back and a gash on his right back leg. It'll heal, the fur would grow back. He focused his attention to clean the gaping wound. Hard at first, running his tongue over it to sanitize from infection. It wasn't big but the skin crinkling in an ugly fashion that meant the skin tore from a bite rather than teeth sinking in. After, he found himself in dreams, too tired to run and too aching to feel confident his leg would carrying him without the adrenaline rush.