Challenged by jbarkerstargazer, and in conjunction with and much help from the-original-sineater, I give you a one-shot using two prompts from a prompt list and a piece of gorgeous art.

It had been years since Scott had visited Yellowstone. It was one of his most favourite parks, full of great hiking trails, and indeed today he was heading for one of the best ones.

Obsidian Cliff was beautiful. Stark, sparce vegetation decorated the elevation, 200 ft above Obsidian Creek and the meadows it meandered through. As Scott flew overhead he could see some of the bighorns dotted around the cliff, some down on the flat.

The rescue today was a simple one. A hiker that had fallen on the trail, up on the top. Obsidian Cliff was hard on bones, and a broken ankle was suspected. Normally iR wouldn't be called out for such a simple rescue, but Scott was passing on his way home so the offer was made and now One was hovering above while he dropped in to the two hikers.

One bandaged badly sprained – thankfully not broken – ankle, one offer of a lift in Two to the nearest clinic gratefully accepted, and Scott watched as Gordon dropped down and picked them up.

Scott breathed in the air. The air was cold, icy even, and there was a small dusting of snow. He breathed in deeply, hands on his hips and eyes closed. He loved living on the island, but sometimes he missed the cold crisp air of early winter.

There was a crack, loud and booming, and Scott frowned, opening his eyes.

'John? John, I just heard a cracking boom. Any idea what's going on?'

'Hang on, Scott.'

'There – there it was again.'

'I heard it. Processing.'

Scott looked around. The cracks were echoing around the park, and now that he was aware of them, there was more than just one source. As he spun around looking for the source he glimpsed two of the bighorns not that far away from him, looking like they were going to fight.

Sure enough, as Scott watched, the two rams squared up. With alarming speed the two charged at each other, horns clashing together and producing the booming 'crack' he'd heard earlier.

'Don't worry John, the sound is caused by the rams here fighting.'

'You can see the Bighorns, Scott?'

'Yeah, Gordon. There's two fighting almost right in front of me. Listen.'

Crack.

'Oh, yeah! That is a beautiful sound, bro. I am so jealous you are witnessing it!'

'If you're quick enough dropping those hikers off you can come back and watch.'

Crack.

'FAB, Scott!'

'I heard you, Scott. Two will be back in about 10 minutes.'

'FAB, Virgil. Hopefully we'll not be needed for a short while.'

Scott watched the rams fight, clashing over and over again, until the one with smaller horns walked away.

Then the ram looked at him. Scott took a step back.

'Er, guys?'

'What's up, Scott?'

'John, the ram…'

'Scott?'

'S***!'

'Scott? Scott!'

'Scott? Scott, don't run! The ram will see it as a challenge! Scott?'

The ram had looked Scott in the eye, fresh from the fight, and taken a step forward. Scott had stepped back, hoping that this would stop the ram, but the ram lowered his head. Thinking on his feet, he could only remember what to do if a dog was aggressive. He may have grown up on a farm, but they had never had sheep or goats.

Gordon's advice came just a little too late for Scott.

Seeing the ram begin to charge, Scott backed off faster, but he was already at the edge of the cliff. He turned just as the ram reared up on his back legs, and Scott knew exactly what was going to happen.

The pain blossomed through his hip as he tried to sidestep the animal and just wasn't fast enough. He windmilled his arms as his feet slipped in the dusting of snow, but it wasn't enough. As he heard Gordon's call not to run and he could see the ram backing up for another try, he felt himself topple over the edge.

Obsidian Cliff was aptly named. Although the cliff itself was mostly the grey-brown outer rock that covered the black glass, there was plenty of the mineral along the cliff face that was sharp. Razor-sharp. Sharp enough to compromise his suit and helmet.

Scott was unconscious before he was halfway down the cliff.

'Guys, how long will you be reaching Scott?'

'We're five minutes out, just dropped off our hikers. Update us, John.'

'Scott's signal indicates he's gone over the cliff. Suit telemetry indicates he's taken some heavy hits, Virgil.'

'FAB, John. We are on our way. ETA three minutes. Gordon, buckle up.'

'Up-buckled, Virgil.'

Two screamed away from the hospital faster than Virgil would usually, and Gordon was glad he had actually buckled up. They arrived within Virgil's three minutes.

'Update, John.'

'Signal is coming from the bottom of the cliff. Telemetry is not good, showing some damage. Blood pressure is dropping, heart rate increasing. Scott's not responding.'

'Understood. We're over the area now. You have Two, John. Gordon, let's go.'

Scott groaned and sat up. He hurt all over, and it was time to take stock. His helmet was shattered, and he removed the remains with his left hand. He had a cut on his right forehead, he could see the blood trailing down from the corner of his eye and taste it in the corner of his mouth.

He had cuts all over, his suit and baldrick was torn into shreds and he'd lost his first aid kit in the fall, and his right arm was bleeding badly. He was already light-headed, and he really needed to get back to One, but even just shifting slightly to get more comfortable told him he wouldn't be moving any time soon. Scott clamped his hand over the slice, grimacing at the pain lancing through him.

And then he heard the second sweetest sound in the world.

Virgil and Gordon dropped on the rescue platform just in front of their brother. Scott was leaning back, left arm clamped over his right but not stemming the blood running. They knelt down on his right side, Virgil deploying the Medscanner while Gordon laid out the first aid kit.

'Take it easy, Scott. We'll take care of you,' Virgil murmured as he worked, gratified when his brother visibly relaxed. Red and amber warnings were flagging up all over the place, and he set about wrapping the worst cut, while Gordon cleaned the cut above his eye.

'You know that blood is supposed to stay inside your body, Scotty,' Gordon chatted away, pleased when Scott grunted in reply and attempted to move his head out of the way. Once Virgil had wrapped the arm Gordon took over, clamping hard on the wound while the medic attended to the lesser wounds.

Scott hissed as Gordon clamped down hard, trying to pull away, but Virgil's rumble of 'stay still, Scott!' stopped him, and with the usual grumbling of not wanted to be taken care of by younger brothers, he submitted to the rest of treatment with bad grace.

'John, we're going to need a hospital. Scott's going to need surgery for a broken hip and urgent attention to a severe laceration to his lower right arm. He has multiple contusions and abrasions, some other lacerations and received at least one blow to the head.'

'M'fine, Virgil.' Scott tried to prove it by moving, but he didn't even manage to move an inch before the pain exploded. Both brothers reached out and held him down until he held up his uninjured hand in surrender, and three voices chorused in unison:

'NO, YOU'RE NOT.'