table © Alaine
ooc:
She realised at once that her comment was a volatile accelerant to the fire of his anger, and the hand that hovered over her healers pouch twitched uncomfortable as that gravelly tone scraped her floppy charcoal ears warningly. However, the stately older male made no move to punish the healer's unruly actions, and after he spoke there was a short silence, her emerald eyes fastidiously wary as they watched for the aggression she expected.
It became apparent, however, that Jefferson must have had some sort of incredulous self-control. Either that, or he just didn't care enough to back up his words with harsh actions. The young collie-woman digressed - Perhaps he was used to dealing with pushy folk, or situations he disliked. Perhaps he was of a high ranking in his pack. She could not tell, and would not ask.
His grumbled reply caught her attention. It seemed a masculine thing to deny medical help for various wounds - She had witnessed enough to label many men as masochistic, coming to her only when the wound itself became infected and therefore twice as painful. But after a bear attack, to seek no relief from the pain? That was extraordinary, absurd, unnatural. Alaine was no psychologist, but there was surely something the matter with a man that seemed so secure in his own self-agony.
Partly because she was curious and partly because of her innate nature of healing, the collie-woman took a hesitant step forward, reaching out gingerly with one hand to gesture at the bandaged limb. " Would you mind if I... Had a look?" The question hung tentatively between them. She didn't want to push her luck.
Speak think walk
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