12-29-2011, 06:35 PM
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The wound festered, he could smell it more strongly every day. The scent of death. He winced every time he bandaged it, stuffing mint leaves in and around the wound to keep the scent from reaching the nose of others. It was a strange thing to keep a secret from his pack; perhaps it was pride that kept him from telling others about his wound and seeking help, or fear that they would think him weak if he did. Either way he had become feverish at night and his reasoning's--or lack of--seemed sound to him. He had been so absorbed in his work that Hrafn had remained in seclusion in his new workshop, allowing only Darijus amongst his abode when he requested the slave to bring him supplies and only because of his muteness and perhaps because Hrafn was more comfortable around silence.[/html]
The projects he had been working on were now complete and today he knew he would have to bring Eris her gift. He had even completed Siv's bed, after washing his blood from the wood and polishing it to perfection, all it needed was bedding which he was sure Darijus could easily collect for him. Hrafn was holding off showing Siv though, having wanted to get something for her daughter as well. Placing the belt Siv had made for him upon his thinning hips he limped to his work bench and placed his signature tools in their various holsters, then picked up a long, cloth wrapped object, spare string and an oil he had collected from animal fats.
With his wound freshly bandaged and his fur smelling strongly of mint he left his workshop, closing the door behind him with a makeshift lock that at the time he could only open. He was not afraid of the family stealing from him, but stumbling across his gifts or strangers entering without his permission. Trying to mask his limp as best he could he made his way to Eris and Larkspur's, the closest residence to his own out of the way home, hoping she might be home. It was early in the evening and he assumed the family would return to the ruins before dark.
"Eris?" He called wonderingly, crouching at the top of the slope just before her doorway and wincing as his wound stretched, blue eyes gazing ponderously at the animal skull above her doorway.