Third Person's POV
Mortimer stood there, listening to the healer drone on about Rolf's vitals, but his mind was miles away.
Inside his head, Barton was pacing, claws scratching at the floor of his consciousness. The wolf was hunting for that familiar scent of pine and snow, but all he got was the sterile, stinging stench of bleach and hospital-grade floor cleaner.
"The patient is stable. If things stay quiet, we'll move him to a regular room by morning," the healer said, flipping through the chart.
"But look, an aortic repair is a major hit to the system. Post-op care is everything. One tiny infection and he's done. Here are the protocols. If you're clear on the risks, sign here."
Mortimer gave a distracted grunt and scrawled his name on the line.
As he handed back the folder, he tri
