----
"I swear I didn't feel this bad even last night," Molaki muttered as the healer went over his whole body again. It was a different wolf this time, a male. He was older, and slight of frame, his grey hair long and draping in two twisted braids.
"I believe you, I do, but your arm and ribs are just not good, Molaki," the doctor explained, unwrapping the tight bandage at the young Alpha's wrist. "And you shouldn't have gotten this wet."
"I was covered in blood, Milo," he snapped back, then sighed. He almost dropped his ears and apologized, but remembered in time that it wasn't his job to do so anymore. It wasn't that the leaders couldn't be humble and polite. If anything, they should remember to, putting other's first. But apologizing just for being short with an answer would put him in submission far too often.
The doctor, Milo, let the comment roll off his back, as he furrowed his brow at the wound.
