I'VE BEEN OPEN ENOUGH / & / PRIVATE, PIP

[GRIMPAW]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]He'd flaked on the hunting patrol. It should have made him feel guilty or something, but it doesn't. He can always catch up later, and for now, the only thing he's worried about is Pip. Seeing him show up like he had, covered in mud and blood — god, he'd been terrified. As someone who rarely made friends, or even cared enough to get close to people, it went without saying that he picked favorites. There had been too many scary thoughts. What if he died? It shouldn't be that scary, but... That was all he had. So relief made him do silly things. Grim had hugged him back in that moment, despite just how strange being touched still felt. Like he was warm, and safe. Like he could trust that, at the very least. Even at the end of the world. He's able to relax, now, but with the loss of adrenaline comes some of the pain whenever he moves his face. The injury hadn't been too dramatic or terrible, just a fall from some who were too eager to climb. It's mostly just the blunt impact that aches.

It's easy to ignore, thankfully. He'd offered to help Pip find some new herbs to refill his supplies, but... Mostly he just wanted some peace and quiet. Pip was talkative, but in a soft sort of way. It feels nice to just walk with him, the rocks pleasantly unfamiliar beneath his paws. The grass isn't soft, but the air is crisp and easy to breathe in. It's nice. He keeps telling himself that he can get used to it. He's not sure if that's true. After a few more strides, when they're sufficiently far away from the larger group, the young canine pauses. "Are you —" how does he finish that sentence? Nobody's alright. He won't ask. "So you're not injured?"

[PIPPUP]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:9.3pt; line-height:1.3"]/hi this probably isnt coherent

There were people who needed Pip's attention, people with burns and scrapes and broken bones, people who needed him, but the moment he heard Grim wanted him, he turned his back on them. He hoped his absence wasn't noticeable, that other medics were in enough abundance to pick up the slack, but he wasn't so certain about that. Even so, he didn't make any motions to leave Grim, didn't form a farewell with his tongue to go attend his responsibility. Pip knew Grim was in a similar situation. The wolfdog wasn't the type to sit idly by, and yet, whatever plan he'd worked on, whatever work he'd resolved to complete, he was here, standing with Pip. He wasn't sure what to make of that, from either of them, although in all honesty, he hadn't known from the very start what to think of who they were as an odd pair. Grim already towered over him, and was enough of an opposite to Pip, yet he hadn't thought twice when he heard that Grim was searching for him. Maybe there was some kind of tether between them. He could feel...something always tugging. It was just more obvious now that the world had fallen to ruin, and the possibility of being alone even more terrifying.

Pip wasn't alone. He didn't need to remind himself of that with Grim so close, walking beside him; every now and then he kept glancing over at the taller canine, unnecessarily reassuring himself that he was still there. Of course he was. He wouldn't leave Pip- he knew that unequivocally. So he breathed in the air, a little thinner than he was used to, colder. The canine was fine, though, foreign climate aside. He was one of the luckier ones- or was it unluckier? No, he couldn't think like that. He wouldn't. You ready did. Swalling, Pip was grateful for the distraction Grim provided by speaking, and his ears lifted, mismatched gaze on the wolfdog. "I'm all right. Nothing worse than a bruise or two, but- you should let me take a look at your face."

[GRIMPAW]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/ i see why you can't go to sleep early now

It should have been more difficult than it had been. Turning away from people who needed them because they had needed each other instead. Part of his mind continues to berate him for it, for dragging the medic away from people he could be helping. Selfish as always, he reminds himself that there are others who can do that job just fine, and that it's not as if they aren't being productive anyway. Despite the ability to grow things easily, this mountain wasn't really suitable for any growth. Hopefully this little trip could reveal at least a few useful things. While Grim himself was going to be... Mostly useless in that regard, honestly, he wasn't willing to leave one of the few skilled medics out here on his own. Not up here, and not after everything that had happened. Maybe saving someone's life did things to someone's future judgement, or maybe Pip was right about some sort of tether. Pip had grown up fast since they met. Either that or he'd only managed to see a very small part of him when they first met. It could easily be both of them. He'd been something clueless and in need of protecting, but every day he felt a bit more comfortable admitting that Pip knew a lot about the world around him. More than someone could guess from a cheerful smile and airiness.

He looks a lot less cheerful now, but don't they all? All those bright colors of his fur marred by the new atmosphere, distinctive gaze a little more distant. He bites at the inside of his cheek while he's looking down at him, the points of his teeth digging in a bit harshly. It wasn't really the physical injuries that concern him, though he's not certain how to word that. So instead he nods absently. "I'm alright," Grim says, though he's already slowly lowering himself to the ground until he's more at Pip's level. Foggy green eyes don't leave his face, waiting for his medical assessment of the injury. It's a dull sting now, like someone is poking an old sewing needle through his skin. It's still edged with dry blood and some dirt, too busy to clean it properly and too wary to let anyone else do it. Besides, it's not like water was abundant here. So far, they only have that river. "Some of the others —" The words die again. "You saw them." The injuries that panic could bring, someone's struggle to survive dooming another. It's hard to picture it, all of that pain. He looks down. "How many do you think won't make it?"

[PIPPUP]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:9.3pt; line-height:1.3"]/im terrible

He kept telling himself that it was fine. That the people who would be fine, that he was still helping by finding herbs because if they ran out, then there was nothing anyone could do for anyone. It was working, in a way. Pip wasn't needed more than any other healer was, so they could certainly suffice in his absence. They could do more than that- Pip was hardly a special or even greatly experienced healer, despite how many months he'd spent studying. How could that have trained him for this situation, when so many people were injured and hopeless? He was glad to have escaped with Grim, if he could call it that. Pip needed a brief moment away, and he supposed Grim was his first and only opportunity to do it. He was...the only person he would leave for, other than Morse, but Morse wasn't here yet, asking for Pip. That was Grim. Grim had known him far longer than anyone else, and now longer than Pip's own mother; that last part did sting, but he didn't regret finding Grim. Or Grim finding Pip, and not just because Grim had saved him from the attacking dog. Time wasn't the only contributor to the tether between them- they were too, meshing together better than other people might have expected. His decision to walk with him now was testament to how closely he regarded Grim, how high his company was esteemed. How much Pip cared for him.

He tried to wear a brighter expression for him, because Pip was hardly the only one more solemn of the two. Grim was just as shaken as Pip, and he couldn't repair that, but he could make it a burden that was...slightly easier to bear, he supposed. It had occurred to him that the wolfdog was asking after more than Pip's physical state- he simply didn't have an answer for emotionally, or mentally. The physical was easier to heal, and he faced Grim fully, the wound closer now that the taller canine was shifting down for Pip. It looked as though he had fallen. Not a severe injury, but it had to hurt, and Pip wanted to clean it as best he could before making more observations. "I'll need to clean this," he said softly, and bent to paw through his satchel for a bottle and a bowl. Not the drinking bowl- this one was meant for cleaning. The bottle held a salt water solution. He'd boiled it only a few days before everything happened, and as he tipped some of it into the bowl, he froze momentarily at the question. Setting the bottle down, he inhaled, bringing his mismatched gaze up to Grim's green one. "You really want an answer to that?" He glanced away, staring at the hard ground, expression troubled and tired, until he finally said,"That depends on us. On what we all do."

[GRIMPAW]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/ you just need to sleep

Somehow, acknowledging that they're making excuses to be here is both pleasant and strange. That they're abandoning their jobs and giving a reason for it. He's sort of sickly glad that Pip chose to come with him even though there are certainly people back at their makeshift camp who needed him. Despite what he says, Pip's pretty special. One of the few people who knew how to save lives instead of take them, and someone who's good at it. Now Grim, he was pretty expendable. Another bit of cannon fodder. The only time that he doesn't feel like another useless soldier is when Pip's talking to him. He's at his most useful when he's making sure people don't kill him, he supposes. Or maybe it's just the way Pip talks to him. He's right. They're a good team. It's not just a matter of their contrasting traits — the medic's softness in high contrast to his abrasive attitude, his brightness to his darkness. It's that he cares enough to learn how to talk to him. How to treat him. That's more than slightly embarrassing to say, but thankfully he's not saying it. (He'd never, or so he thinks.)

The dog watches him with a silent curiosity as he digs through his bag. He can taste the salt in the water, and smell every other herb he's got in there. It's gotten worse these last few days, all of the sharp smells making him wrinkle his nose. Even when he's not paying attention to it, it's there. As focused as he was on his injury and his friend's evasiveness, Grim's nose still twitches and his ear flicks back against his skull. His eyes don't leave his face. Maybe he doesn't want an answer. Not really. It wouldn't do him any good to know how many of them he'd be finding enough dirt to dig a grave for. He'd asked, and he'll listen, his gaze unwavering even as Pip looks at him. Part of him is grateful for the fact that he didn't get a solid answer. After one moment of silence, he shifts forward on his stomach, just close enough to nudge the other canine's shoulder with his nose. "Let's get to work, then. Hurry up, sawbones."