A step in the right direction

Faryn Tahra · 03-14-2011, 06:51 PM

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Poor Faryn...heck poor Alder...he had no idea that such a simple show of concern would unleash such a flood of emotions. Poor dude lol

Her ears flattened for a moment when the male confessed to not knowing the information she sought. Was she going to have to look elsewhere, and try to get in touch with another pack? Oh, she didn't want to do that again. She'd barely managed to keep from turning tail and running this time. Next time, it might not be so easy. Then there was the fact that she was almost out of time. Her drug was dwindling to the point where her doses would need to be smaller and smaller in order for her to keep from having too much pain. In no time she'd be completely out and she'd need a healer to help her...or at least someone. It didn't necessarily have to be a healer. If they even knew basic first aid that would be alright.

The blonde girl was so absorbed in her worrying that she almost did not catch the male's inquiry. Was she hurt? Now there was a difficult question. Technically, from a physically wounded point of view, she was not hurt. She knew she would be hurt or at least hurting if she ran out of drugs, but that didn't really count did it? However, she did not want to risk giving a false answer and being turned away from any future assistance she might have to ask for. Plus, this male sounded genuinely concerned. Maybe she could tell him...maybe he wouldn't judge her like she feared others would. "N-no, not really. I just...might be hurt in the next few days, and I'm afraid that I might need a healer and not be able to find one," she replied, her head hanging slightly, bangs draping in front of her eyes, "I have...a bit of a problem. A month or two ago, I became...addicted to a drug. Someone forcibly injected me with whatever substance is in this bag," she shook the leather satchel,"on a few occasions, and then...my body started to hurt when I hadn't been given any. It got to the point where I had to beg and plead for it. Then...one day a couple weeks ago, I found the person who subjected me to this fate, dead with this bag and a needle on the table next to his body. I'm not sure how he died...b-but I'm afraid that I'm going to die too. I-I've managed to keep the pain away by giving myself injections...but...I'm almost out. I'm scared that my body's so dependent on this stuff that without it...I'll die." She'd left out some of the details that might have better explained her ordeal, such as the fact that she had been abused all her life, sold into slavery, raped and then finally addicted to the drug so that her addiction could be used to control her. She blamed herself for her problems...she'd always been made to think that it was all her fault. The real truth was that it wasn't. She hadn't even lived a full year yet, and already she had experienced more pain and suffering than perhaps half of the individuals her age would experience in 3 years or more.

A few tears dripped off of her down turned muzzle, hitting the cold snow at her feet. What a pathetic waste of fur she was. She didn't really deserve to be part of a pack. This place, despite the few details she had been given, was a nice place to life probably full of nice people. They didn't need her. Why was she wasting this male's time?

#00+

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