It was quiet, the kind of silence that makes one jumpy, edgy. Sitting alone on the deck of the old hotel, the healer was all these things and more. Unable to remain still her slender hands fidgeted constantly, wearing a small channel into the rotten wood of the balcony fence. Beyond her lay the lands of the Cour des Miracles pack, stretched out like a lazy cold blanket of dank winter. Restless emerald eyes, purest jade with inverted optics, scanned the land. Waiting. Just waiting.
When the howl pierced that solemn silence, not an inch of surprise curled in her gut.
Muttering haphazardly to herself, the young lady dashed into the house, scooping up her bag of healing contents and hurriedly stuffing it with extra blankets and rags. Winter was often a sucker of souls, more so than the tepid Summer-fevers or Autumn colds; Worse, it's fatality was often spread via those who were previously injured. There was a telling knot of worry fixing clammy hands around her heart, and Alaine mentally pushed them away as she stumbled out the door, bounded down the steps. Content with the knowledge that her own young harem of children were safely tucked away into the fold of the looming building behind, the healer rapped the strap of her satchel thrice about her neck before shifting into Lupus form.
Four legs were much faster than two, and as she skidded beneath fences and low-lying bushes, the collie-lady was very grateful to her petite, light form. It made these mad sprints much easier than hefting around the larger bulk of a purebred wolf. Instinct and keen hearing informed the too-young mother of the direction of the howl, but it was not until she saw the stables up ahead that recognition truly set in. The wounded must be inside, and by the sound of that howl they already had company. Maybe it wouldn't be that serious, then - A crushed toe from anxious hoofs, or a fall from the rafters. Trying to settle her anxious mind on those more optimistic thoughts, the dog stopped before the doors, and hurriedly shifted back into Optime form.
She was just striding through the door, untangling the bag from about her slender throat, when the rusty smell of fresh blood hit like a stampede. Letting out a low bark to inform the occupants that she had arrived, all sorts of nervousness immediately fled from the young beauty's features, replaced instead by the calm but steely facade of a practiced healer.
The woman was slouched on the floor, folded into herself like a sodden piece of creamy silk. Her fur, a soft silver in the light of the stables, was stained glossy ruby in places, and a puddle of watery blood had began to ooze out from underneath her. The second smell, now stronger than the first, was of birthing fluid - The traumatic memories of her own pregnancy were pushed stubbornly aside as Alaine immediately rushed forth, the bag dumped unceremoniously at her side as the collie-lady knelt down beside the fallen. She was appealing to a man - Not just any man, for he smelt strongly of the pack too - But the healer merely gave him a cursory once-over for any wounds. He was surprisingly devoid of the signs of mauling that had marred the sunken beauty.
" Miss? Miss, I'm the healer, I'm going to help you. How long have you been having contractions for? I need you too look at me now, focus on my face. I'm going to get you through this. What is your name, and who is the father?"
The words were a calm stream of consciousness, all her self-taught skills bubbling to the fore as Alaine tilted the woman's head in her direction, her palms cool on the heated, flushed flesh. The wounded had lost a lot of blood, and seemed to be suffering from severe shock - Her pupils were barely visible, just blurs of pinpoint darkness in their orbs of pained green. Alaine took a deep breath, her gut churning at the scents that had infiltrated the room. Now she turned towards the male with a surprising amount of authority, her hands already rifling through the bag to pull out various bits of equipment.
" You need to keep her awake, conscious, while I examine her. If she passes out before the labor is over, the pups will die in the womb. Lie her down, and try and find something soft to support her head."
Speak think walk
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