Nooram

Nooram was injured from a squabble with a former packmate, and left alone to fend for himself. He dragged himself miles in order to find food. He was very roughly taken in by Talia, who has made him her mate. She dotes on him however, in between defending the clan.

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He has slightly tattered wings, which are stunted in size. He is still very thin from his near starvation. He tends to be rather irritable with the others in the clan aside from Talia.

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His claws were little more than bloody nubs by the time he had dragged himself to rest underneath a scraggly, twisted tree. He panted, painful puffs of air that tasted coppery. He hadn't found any food or water, and the scrapes on his legs and flanks burned profusely. He could smell the sickly smell of infection setting in, and sighed wearily. He would probably die soon...
...A low grumble awakened him abruptly, and he hissed in warning to the guardian standing in front of him. She snarled at him, and he slumped down, too weary to fight. He was surprised when instead of ending his misery, she took him by the scruff of his neck, like some hatchling, and carted him off to a small lair. She dumped him in a cavern with some water and food and trotted off without a backwards glance...
...Later she came back and licked all his wounds until they opened and ran out all the pus. Once he had been sufficiently taken care of in her mind, she gathered him under her wing and drifted off to sleep.