(Untitled)

[lipstickittoyou]

*It's already past lunch when a certain make-up artist decides to finally make her way to the messhall. The only problem? There's a wolf passed out in front of her barn.*

...Zero?

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[bitingcynicism]

[Is kind of sort of dead to the world atm. Also, covered in a lot of assorted foliage and mud and burrs. Oh, and blood on a good chunk of his front ruff, which can easily be seen from the way he's lying on his side, chest heaving violently in his sleep and releasing a cross between a growl and a whine.]

[lipstickittoyou]

Ah...*crouches down and tries to carefully lift him up*

[bitingcynicism]

[Jerks in his sleep and kicks a bit, forcing his eyes to open, as a ferocious snarl pours from his throat.]

Don't touch me!

[lipstickittoyou]

You're hurt. We are going to get you inside and patched up.