He slammed into the sand next to him, arms already reaching, hand sliding behind Wyatt's neck to press hard against the wound there and keep it from bleeding.

"Damn it, Wyatt," he said, his voice shaking with... Anger? Or fear?

He didn't waste any time. He wasn't going to let Wyatt bleed out here, not when who knows what could show up at any moment, hungry for a meal. One arm behind Wyatt's head, the other snaked under his body as he pulled Wyatt up out of the dirt and into his arms. He grunted, a sudden warmth under the bandage around his leg, the effort opening the scab.

"Gods you are heavy," he grunted as he half-carried, half-dragged Wyatt back towards the shelter.