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Rebel had not felt himself hit the ground. In the last recollection he had of their fight, he was hanging from Issun's mouth by the considerable scruff of his neck. As the multi-colored wolf's words began to rouse him, Rebel realized two things simultaneously: he was laying flat on the ground, and his head was pounding relentlessly. He thought it must have been only minutes since he had slipped into unconsciousness, the combined result of the hard-hitting injuries he had sustained in battle, and the emotional strains he had to endure. Rebel was a fighter, but he had not been ready to lose so quickly. He knew now that his endurance would need to be worked on, for the future.

As the groggy adolescent began taking in more of his surroundings, his one good eye opened a fraction of the way. The other eye, on the side of his face that had received the brunt of one of Issun's attacks, remained shut. It would eventually heal, he knew, since the eye itself was unharmed, but the surrounding area was all cut up and blood had been drying on his fur, making it uncomfortable. Resting his chin on the stone surface below, Rebel had quite a limited view of his former opponent, but that did not stop him from forcing a response past his mostly-closed lips. His jaws barely separated as he grumbled out, "Mm.. Not a pup." It was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Guess you're a moose, then," Rebel muttered as he attempted, unsuccessfully, to push himself up. He managed to raise himself a few inches from the ground, but then his legs grew weak and his body sank back to the ground. Rebel released a snort in spite of himself. He was not meant to be this weak, in his mind. But the body has ways of surprising the brain. Isn't that what his father had always said? Rebel thought it was something like that.

"No, I don't have a lady," he grumbled. "I do better alone." Of course, that was apt to change if he found the right wolf, he knew. But, as it was, Rebel had always had problems connecting with anyone, opposite sex included. The young canine glanced up at Issun with his good eye at the mention of treating his wound. "You can do that?" he asked. Having never met Issun before their fight, Rebel had no previous knowledge of the other wolf's healing abilities.

((So sorry I haven't posted in forever! It got crazy at work and I sort of ran out of inspiration, but I'm good now!))

The adolescent simply closed the eye that was being licked around by Issun and pretended that this wasn't embarrassing. He didn't try to sit up, just remained laying on the ground with his back legs tucked under him. One of his front paws was curled inward, and he noticed that the pad on his foot had been scraped raw from sliding around on the stones during their fight. As Rebel had clung to the cliff, desperate not to slide down, he had not paid any mind to it. Only now he could feel that his feet throbbed lightly.

"Oh, really," he muttered as Issun shared his perspective on getting the ladies. His father had always been faithful to his mate, as far as Rebel knew. Rebel's own experience with the opposite sex was limited to the point of non-existence. There had been a few females from his old pack that he was interested in, but he had left that all behind as he set out through the forest to seek his answers.

Rebel blinked his eye as Issun stopped licking him. He was pleased that he no longer had to view the world half in red, and he breathed a sigh of silent relief that his eye was not harmed. He was beginning to feel at peace now that the fight was over, and he even found himself content with his injuries. It was not the worst a wolf could suffer, he was still alive. To beat all, his opponent was currently looking for herbs to help him with.

"Hey.. thanks," he said. He was a wolf of few words, but he meant it.

Issun's limping did not go unnoticed by Rebel's watching eyes. The wolf was obviously in pain, but hid it well as he continued to advise him on dating tactics. Rebel had grown up amongst warriors, and knew enough not to mention anything. If Issun chose to discuss his own injuries, that would be his decision. Rebel had no desire to heckle the wolf about his apparent weakness while he himself had taken the worst of the fight.

Rebel turned his paw pad-side-down on the forest floor and eyed the herbs Issun had brought over. "Nothing else hurts. What are those plants supposed to do?" He knew he was showing his ignorance about the world of healing, but there were few medics in his native pack. Sure-Claw warriors tended to fight to the death, so there was little need for recoveries. Rebel had never payed much attention to learning the beneficial properties of herbs.