Stinging pain erupting throughout your body as you do so, your eyes crack open, vision bleary. As you try, and fail, to push yourself up from your slumped position, a gentle hand places itself on your chest, pushing you back down. You have no energy to struggle against it.

"Stay still. Moving won't do you much good right now." Recognising the voice to be your co-worker, Turtleshell, your eyes sluggishly move to him. He's crouched down next to you on the ground, and dressing what you recognise to be a very deep wound on your right arm. Every limb of yours is covered in them, deep, aching slashes, in fact. Blood pools out of them, seeping into the bandages that cover them. You're rested against a decently sized rock, both of you hidden by the thick pine trees that surround the area.

Whilst exploring Outer Ring, looking for the infamous lawless king, Warhammer, as you were both tasked by Push, you had been attacked by a vicious pack of bestial wolves, a hazy memory that you eventually manage to piece together. Having gotten the jump on you, you barely even heard their approach before it was too late. Turtleshell, himself, has a few scratches across his arms and body, but he almost immediately hid himself away in his shell at their attack, which thankfully saved him from the worst of it.