sell me SANCTUARY
#1
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Dawali, Ember, and Geneva (I think). Continued from here (thus dated April 11).


He was scared. Just as he had never stopped moving, neither did the pounding of his heart against his chest. Still she was losing blood, still she was gagging and choking on shallow breaths. There had been no alarm made to Phoenix Valley, no calls sent desperately over the pack lands for help; they would only be a liability to him, and he couldn't risk being weighed down or slowed. Never before had Jefferson seen his packmates as such -- but never before had he been so scared, so terrified. He couldn't risk stopping for those who wouldn't know what to do.


In his mad rush with her in his arms, Jefferson had bolted to the central ranch house where the two had spent so many nights, so many afternoons. He leapt the fence and dashed past the now-soggy haystack -- where she'd pinned him down once and teased him, he remembered so clearly -- and escaped the rain for mere seconds as he yanked a horse from the stable. What was its name? The cyclops couldn't remember. He didn't care to remember, he just needed it to run. Jefferson was never much of a horseback rider, but for now he would have to make do. AniWaya was far, but it was his only hope. It was the only place he felt safe enough to go.


The stallion neighed and bucked its arguments at first, but with desperate coaxing, quickly submitted. Riding on its back was bumpy, far more animated than the brute's two-legged run; he could only hold Geneva close to try and keep her still. He bent over her, scarred arm cradling her tight to his chest, his other hand clumped in the stallion's mane. It was one of the AniWayan horses they'd been housing for the tribe, he realized -- it probably knew its way home. Still no words were exchanged between they, the girl juggling consciousness. His scarred features were locked, stiff like cement; his eyes were both open still, off-white torn eye sightless while its electric green partner stared out into the heavy rain.


The terrain was difficult, and the journey was far; every second that passed by felt like an eternity, and as the afternoon stretched on, Jefferson realized how terribly time wished to work against him. He would haste the horse faster, but it was no use. AniWaya arrived for him when it did, and he did not stop at their borders. Towards the town square he went, what he thought to have been in the best direction. Unstopping, he released a tragic cry into the sky, alerting for Dawali or Ember or whomever could help him. Someone. Anyone. Hurry.

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#2
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Bit by bit, Geneva realized that she was moving, although she was not certain where. She would have been frightened, except for the glimpses she caught of a scarred shoulder. Sometimes, when the quick, strong movements jostled her head back, she could hold on to awareness for a few precious seconds to follow the thick, raised ridges of scar tissue up his shoulder to glimpse his face. Two eyes, no longer twins, looked ahead; the face they sat in was twisted into an alien expression that was not at home with those features.

At times she was plunged into peaceful darkness, only to be awakened by the sharp teeth of pain around her face, shoulder, and collar bone. Most of the time, when she was with him, she blinked by uncertain. Half of her vision was awash in imperfect gloom, edges of pain making shadows sharp and other things soft and undistinguishable. The gloom of the rain engulfed her, a cacophony of confusing sound that did not mix well with the harsh sounds of his breath and the constant thunder of clicking hooves.

She did not have time to form thoughts that that did not involve her immediate surroundings during those few, fleeting seconds of clarity before darkness swallowed her again. But when she was able to grasp awareness, to think beyond the chokehold of pain and the swirl of speed that brought the sick edge of disorientation, she knew that she was with Jefferson. Speech was useless, a tool lost to her. When she tried to speak his name, she choked on the pain accompanied by trying to use her bottom jaw, which hung at a peculiar angle against her face, loose and jangling when the movements jarred her and lifted the parts of her body that Jefferson could not hold secure.

Jefferson’s arm around her kept the shoulder with the most distance from him securely in place. She tried to move her fingers and found that they would not obey. She whined, hissed, and choked against the pain when she tried to find a way to communicate with him. During one of those precious moments of conscious clarity, she flexed her knuckles hard against him, where her hand was trapped between her body and his own. And when the thundering motion of the horse finally stopped, it jolted her body in a wave of outrageous pain. When blackness came this time, she succumbed to it willingly, sinking down into an endless sea.


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#3
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;_; I pp'd that he found them near the big ceremonial fire heading further inwards; it seemed dramatic and nice, and it's in the village so it'd fit, no? Let me know if you want it changed.
Word Count: -


come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops


He'd been taking a nap. Or, rather, that is what he would have been doing had his mind let him. No, his thoughts flew in the directions they wanted to go, and Dawali had merely been dozing, falling slowly out of this world and into the world of sleep, but not. He sat up from his slanting seat abruptly when the signal reached him, urgent and desperate. Jefferson. Dawali had been greatly amused at their little April prank, and had since held the male in even higher esteem than he had before. Their two packs were allies, and this relationship was of great value to the red wolf. The male seemed very much able to keep his cool, however, and so the Kalona did not doubt even for a second that this was very serious business. Not wasting any time, Dawali strode out of bed immediately. He did not need to bring any belongings, for he always wore them, even when sleeping. Some liked to take their belongings and clothing off them when they slept, or so he'd heard, but it mattered little to him. Today, it paid off.


He didn't have to take many steps, and already as he took one outside his door he knew this. Jefferson's scent was strong, and Geneva's, too. He hurried, taking long strides and not bothering to wake Belle. Waking and preparing the horse for a ride would take longer than he'd spend running there. Rain crashed down at him and it muffled sounds when it met the paths that snaked the village. They were quickly turning into mud, but where water muffled one sense, it enhanced another. Their scents rode the water droplets, and Dawali knew before long that someone was hurt. There was blood on that scent, and he could smell a horse as well, smelling strongly of sweat. He hurried further, and after a few short moments he spotted them. In the glare of the great high flames of the sacred fire, Jefferson was mounted, and in his arms was the limp figure of Geneva. He could not see her face, but he could smell her clearly. Shouting out, should they not see him as he headed towards them, he sprinted now with one arm raised to call their attention. The amount of blood-scented air that reached him now worried him deeply, and he called out again, powerful voice battling the crash of the rain to reach the Patriarch's ears. "Jefferson! What's happened?!"

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#4
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She was in the middle of playing with her son when the cry came to her ears. Ember frowned and quietly bid that the boy return to the den, fearful for a moment. She had thought that things with Inferni were over, and that Phoenix Valley hadn't been involved. But the howl that she heard did not belong to her Kalona...it was the howl of the leader of the Valley pack, Jefferson. She put her hand to her hip, feeling to make sure that Lightning was still securely strapped to her side, then slid her hand over to grasp her dagger. Whoever had attacked the Valley would pay.

She was on Bayard and making her way to the area that she had heard the howl in a matter of minutes. The horse seemed to sense the urgency in her voice as she rode, mumbling to herself. There must have been an attack. What had Phoenix Valley ever done to anyone? The dark wolf came upon the scene in a flurry of hooves, her appaloosa skidding to a halt a few yards away from the trio. Something was wrong..the air smelled deeply of blood..and Jefferson was supporting something. Or someone. She swallowed hard and dismounted, coming nearer to try and see what was going on.

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#5
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That's good by me! Oh and by the way, her injuries are a broken jaw, collarbone, shoulder, two ribs, a shattered cheek bone, and the obvious cuts and scratches. Yuck.


Into the village the horse carried them, it seemed to know exactly where to go. The second his call finished, his green eye flashed from place to place, seeking any and all signs of life. They had to be close, their tribe was centered around that village; and that knowledge, the knowledge he'd gained so recently, paid off. The familiar bright red streak he knew as Dawali filtered through the rain and into view soon enough, and at that second he halted the horse and slipped off in one clean movement. Feet and body tingling from all the repeated, bumpy movement, the cyclops dropped down to a knee immediately upon touching the ground, still cradling the poor girl in his arms. His eyes, both open and desperate regardless of their capability of vision, pleaded up at his friend.


"H-Help," he choked, instinctively loosening his hold on her enough for the red wolf to see. Despite the rain, the brute's front was coated in the blood that the rain had been unable to reach due to his tight embrace; her face was damaged, her arm hung limply, and her collarbone poked out in an odd, disturbing fashion. Jefferson looked down at her quickly, just long enough to verify she had not fallen apart into scattered pieces, and then turned his devastated eyes past the Kalona, watching the black-furred woman he was so fond of arrive and hasten towards them both.


There was no time for greetings. He looked down at her again, shaking his head. "I-I didn't know where else to go. I found her near our Quarry, on the ground. I-I don't know how long she was there. She's barely breathing. I think her jaw and shoulder are broken, I don't know what else. I-I don't know what to do..." Swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes shot up once more. "Please, I-I didn't know where else to go. Please."

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#6
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The plane she existed on was constant and powerful as the sea, but it changed from moment to moment. It changed like the face of the water, a strange phenomenon that she could not dwell on. It was beyond her capabilities now. Her eyes remained shut loosely against her will. And try thought she might, she was unable to break the surface of the dark water that held her mind captive.


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#7
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Broken face is broken >< I pp'd them moving into the building!
Word Count: 659


come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops



Jefferson saw him as he approached and quickly loosened his hold on the limp form to allow him to see. Knowing what had happened then became irrelevant, for the Kalona could easily spot the damages that Geneva had. The other male explained and Dawali did not reply, but merely nodded at him. Yes, he would help. He had seen her only days ago when they had pulled their prank on their packs, and now look at her. Her face looked completely shattered. The red wolf growled deeply with sympathy as he studied her, eyebrows at an angle to show concern and ears looping downwards, and he hastily motioned for Jefferson to continue moving towards the Town Hall. They would have to find shelter; he could not treat her on the bare ground in this rain. The water droplets continued to hammer their surroundings, and out of that thunder came another as Ember arrived on Bayard. Dawali nodded to her urgently and motioned towards the Town Hall before sprinting in that direction as well. There were blankets and shelter inside, and they badly needed it.


Once inside he motioned for Jefferson to put her on the ground, and as he waited for this he ground something, herbs, between the rocks he always kept in his belt. A slow tune, quiet and subdued as a hum, was on his lips, and he mixed the crushed herbs with his own spit to form an ointment. It was all he had for being sophisticated right now. Dawali's fingers now moved in a trained and familiar way as he examined her without saying anything, and with hastened certainty he felt for her life-pulse in the right places. Yes, her soul was still in there, and she was not dead. The bone that stuck out was a bad bone to break, and he had seen this injury only once before. He remembered; it was painful, and pain could suck the life out of one just as spilling the blood could. He'd seen it himself. He moved on to listen and touch her breath and chest; Jefferson had said she breathed badly. Luckily, he found no blood on the air that she breathed, nor in her mouth; it would have been a difficult injury to heal. The chief poked her in specific places on her chest and sides to search for an injury he could not see, one inside her, hoping to get a moan or a jerk hat would let him know he had poked something painful. He had always thought that this method was cruel, but he understood its uses. Once having covered these essentials, Dawali began to hum that same tune again as he applied the hastily prepared ointment to all the places on her body which bled, and all the places that were painful. It would take some of the edge off, perhaps, but more importantly it would make the blood stay inside the body. This was vital. He glanced, now, at Jefferson, and his eyes let on that he knew how this worked. Dawali's own mate had died from a sickness he had been unable to heal; it was the most devastating form of defeat he had ever felt. But Geneva would not die; he was confident, and his eyes said that, too.


"She has a healthy breath, and her blood is moving as it should. I think she is mostly injured on the outside." Being injured, mutilated, as she was was truly horrible, too, but it would not kill her. He turned to Ember and asked her to get bandages and herbs from the storage in the stables. Just now he did not dare leave the patient to get it himself, in case there was something he had overlooked. His hands touched her face to find the most urgent places to fix. There were many things that needed healing there, and she would never look the same, he was sure.

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#8
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It took her a few minutes to realize what the Patriarch was holding in his arms. She'd been in a state of complete bewilderment, unsure of the reason why he had come into AniWaya and called for them, until she got a bit closer. The usually bright-eyed, shiny-furred wolf that she knew was nearly unrecognizable. The way that she lay in Jefferson's arms, limp and shattered, made the Danua Ihesdi wince both outwardly and inwardly. It wasn't natural, the way she looked. She now understood why the Valley male had called for them. Or, rather, Dawali.

Now feeling slightly out of place and unsure of what she could do without making the situation worse, the dark furred female took a few steps back from the group. She wouldn't touch her friend unless asked; she knew that such actions could injure the fragile luperci further. Dawali was humming in a low voice. Ember had been breathing a little heavily, having been shocked and somewhat stressed, and the humming helped to calm her a bit. She spoke to Jefferson. "It was good that you brought her to us. Dawali's the best healer that I know, including Naniko. She ain't been healin' for a while, not since before her last litter of pups, she told me. So it was the right thing to do, to come and bring 'er here instead."

At Dawali's request she gave him a deep nod, turning immediately to follow his wishes and head to the stables. She was back quickly with an armload of bandages from the storage area. They were lucky that they had thought to store such things. She had also brought a few towels and blankets with her. She set a towel down on the ground then set the bandages on top of them, to try and keep them off of the dirt.

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#9
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Dawali didn't speak, but the concern and dread weighed at his features. When he was prompted, Jefferson scooped the limp girl back up and returned to his feet, once again cradling her head helplessly close. Dawali turned and led them; Jefferson lagged behind the two AniWayan leaders and whispered quietly into her ear that everything would be okay.


Soundlessly he was told to put her on the ground, and he obediently obeyed. Jefferson slipped his hands away from her for the first time in what seemed like ages; his fingers and arms ached as the weight was finally released from them. Again standing, Jefferson backed away as Dawali began his work, poking here and there and making all the appropriate faces at his findings. The cyclops, useless, gripped at his scarred and pounding arm, and once again closed his sightless eye. Relief washed over him, and suddenly Jefferson felt so tired, so weary, like he was waking up still drowsy from a nightmare.


He exhaled a long, thankful breath at Dawali's words, relieved both to hear the news and the sound of another voice. What humming there had been had not reached his tattered, worn ears: Too much thoughts were spiraling in his mind for it to have broken through. "Do what you can," he offered, then turned his ears for Ember. Before he could even nod his thanks, she was whisked away promptly at Dawali's demand and returned shortly thereafter. All that they were doing, even in just their preparations, were completely foreign to him. He knew nothing of medicine or healing and had been lucky to identify the few broken bones he had. His interest didn't lie with the medicine, however, but with her status and their progress.


"Thank you both," he said finally, having moved to sit on the ground out of the way. Green glowed from his eye, wide and alert, and watched their every move. His back leaned forward at attention, ready to jump to his feet to assist whenever prompted.


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#10
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It was strange now, to exist in this plane between consciousness and unconsciousness. Instinctually, Geneva knew that she had been hurt. She tried to search her memory to find out way, but she could not access that information now. The present consumed her awareness, seeming to be one great mystery that encompassed her every sense and thought. For now, it was impossible to know what had happened, because she was not all together certain what was going on now.

She was puzzled, but she did not feel the razor edge of panic anymore. She was conscious of the fact that she had stopped moving at such a frantic, strong pace. Now she was prone and static. Without the constant motion to scramble her thoughts and add to her disorientation, she was better able to think more. Jefferson. She was almost certain that she hadn't dreamed him up. Her fingers, lying on the ground, flexed as she thought his name. She could not speak his name, could not command herself to open her eyes to see, but her fingers made small, jerking movements every few moments as she tried in vain to reach for him.

It was the most she could do, she realized forlornly. She could barely keep awake enough to fuel her efforts. But when awareness came to her, his voice repeated in her mind like a litany. Jefferson. Jefferson. Jefferson. He had been there. And he had to be here now, somewhere nearby, whatever had happened. She clung to the only thing she knew to be true. Pain, now her companion, sank into her bones and radiated, but it lessened as something touched different places on her body. A strange, humming sound reached her, and her brows furrowed faintly as she wondered about it. The voice behind the wordless tune was almost familiar, almost, but not familiar enough to penetrate the dense cloud of confusion and pain. Only one word, one name, had fought its way through. Jefferson. Secure in the knowledge, or in the fever dream, that he had to be nearby, she continued to curl her fingers when she could find the strength.


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#11
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You post so fast I didn't realize it was my turn already O_O Pp'd Geneva reacting to pokes on the chest so he can find the broken ribs, hope that's ok? Smile
Word Count: 452


come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops


Jefferson retreated as Dawali examined the female, and the red wolf nodded at his words. Even if Dawali had hated Geneva, which he far from did, he would still have helped her. She was still, but moved her hands and sometimes the muscles of her face, and Dawali watched with sadness in his heart. He knew that some valued looks more than others, but even if Dawali had been a high master at his profession (which he was not) her view of herself would be drastically altered when she had healed enough to see herself. Her skin had risen on her cheek and along her jaw, and with her eyes closed it was almost as if the only normal features of her face was her forehead; everything else was bloodied and swollen and blue. It mattered little now, though; what mattered was keeping her alive. A strained sound came from her as he touched the side of her chest, and he repeated the action to see if he had actually found something or not. Her reaction continued, and now Dawali knew why her breathing was pained; the bones that protected the upper body. One of them was probably bruised or broken. He had seen some die from such injuries, but often their broken bones had shredded them inside, and they bled from their inner wounds. Geneva had no blood in her mouth; it seemed she was lucky. He started to hum again as he applied more ointment to her superficial wounds, and looked up as Ember entered, bringing bandages and the other supplies he had asked for. Reaching for one of the longer strips of cloth, his gaze shifted to Jefferson. The things they were going to do would not be a pretty sight. "I have to push her broken bones back into place." He was being blunt about it, but the longer they waited, the worse it would be. Almost sighing, he continued. "I don't know if I can fix her jaw; I will have to move it around to find out exactly where it is broken. The same with her other injuries..." The medic glanced at Ember, who probably was not too excited about what she was going to have to help him do, but he preferred her to Jefferson, whose emotions would likely get in the way. "It will not be... comfortable. For any of us." Far from it; it would be directly ugly. Geneva was still now, but she would feel the pain, no doubt. As far as he could see, from where her skin was bloated and raised, they had a lot to do, and there was a lot of pain in store for Phoenix Valley's subleader.

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#12
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It is indeed quick Big Grin


She stood there in limbo, unsure of what she ought to be doing or what else she could say to help the situation. Her ears were back and stress lined her face. She hoped that Dawali would be able to do something for her friend. He seemed to know what to do, at least. And she hoped that Geneva hadn't been injured so badly that her body wasn't able to be repaired.

The Kalona spoke once more and she knelt down by the silver furred woman. She would do whatever she needed to. Ember unstrapped her weapons belt, laying it down on the ground. "I'll do whatever ya need me to." She said. Even if it hurt Geneva now...if it would help her heal then it needed to be done. She remembered the pain of her broken arm, when it had been put back into place. "Is there anything we can give her for pain?"

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#13
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Whoops, I blanked. Sorry! /Big Grin


At Dawali's words, the cyclops' tattered ears flicked forward to attention. Although the Kalona did not go into detail, the tension in his voice--something Jefferson picked up on only through knowing the red wolf well--spoke wonders about how the procedure would go. Green eye dwindled on the grey-furred girl and her battered body; from the distance he could no longer hear her shallow, desperate breaths, but the quick rise and drop of her chest proved her condition had not changed. Was she still filtering in and out of consciousness? Would she be lucky enough for the cold, dark numbness of unconsciousness to claim her before Dawali had to begin working?


He frowned. She would probably feel every pry, every poke. She might hear the snaps and pops. He cringed at the thought of hearing her cry out in pain and being incapable of soothing it. Ultimately, Jefferson only nodded his agreement and kept quiet, unable to bring himself to say much of anything else. Ember brought up a good question, however, and Jefferson glanced quickly at Dawali for an answer. He would fetch it if it was needed.


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#14
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ooc talk


Geneva lay still in the dark. There was nothing more that she could do. The rhythm of the hummed melody scattered her panic-edged thoughts. In moments of lucidity, she was able to come to terms with the fact that whatever was going on around her and to her was outside of her control. She held the knowledge - and hoped that she had not dreamed - that Jefferson was somewhere nearby. It did much to dissipate her fear, although she could recognize nothing of his voice in the sounds that sometimes were able to break through the barrier of gauzy dark and into her mind.

And she had little strength left now to combat the oppressive weight of weariness, bone deep, a companion of the pain that penetrated different points on her body. At times the pain was worse, coming with a pressure. But those moments were fleeting as anything else. Floating in the dark, she was a creature of instinct. When she had the strength to do so, she quailed against those foreign touches, flinching and uttering sounds of discomfort.



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#15
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Dunno how detailed you guys are interested in playing this out. Lemme know if you think this pace is too slow and we can magically alter time for the jaw/collarbone stuff. Word Count: 436

come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops


Jefferson said nothing, and Ember gave the question he had feared. There were things he could give her, but they might not work, or they worked slowly. By the time they were active, the whole ordeal would be over. It would be a worthless effort that he had no time for. The chief mirrored Jefferson's expression as he considered it for a moment, glancing from Ember to Jefferson to Geneva before nodding to himself. From his pouch he drew out a little package, which when opened contained whole dried flowers, once crimson red but now a warm brown. He handed four of them to the patriarch. "Boil these. As soon as the water is no longer clear, you can start slowly giving her drops of it on her tongue. Perhaps it will work in time." Too little and it wouldn't work at all. Too much and she would choke on the fluid, and the last thing he needed was her throwing up when her jaw was broken like that. Now that he had addressed this issue, he focused again on the patient, and mumbled instructions to Ember about holding her limbs or turning Geneva in this or that direction as he applied a long strip of bandage very tightly around her whole chest. It would keep her chest-bones in place, and it was necessary that it was tight. Moving on, he addressed the easier fractures first, and spent long minutes testing the various parts of her shoulder before he knew which way it would go. Finally, he pressed with one hand and pulled sharply with the other. The shoulder snapped and as Dawali carefully examined it again, he knew that he'd succeeded with this one. He maintained that low hum all the while, and now moved on to examine the broken arm. The easier fractures first, then the complicated ones. It was simply more time-efficient. He lifted Geneva's wrist and gave it to Ember. "When I say, pull it firmly towards you." His own hands held the other part of her lower arm, near the elbow, and he counted to three and pulled, feeling her bone snap into place. A few moments were given this fracture as well, to see to it that it had worked. Satisfied, Dawali now had the greater challenges ahead: the jaw and the collarbone. The jaw was so complicated, and while the collarbone was not, he had limited experience with such a severe injury to that bone. The medic continued to him and his face was blank as his fingers tested the area around the collarbone, mapping the injury in full.

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#16
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She did as she was bid. Ember tried to keep all thoughts on Geneva, but her eyes occasionally drifted from the gray woman's face to the chief instead. She watched him as he worked, pale eyes intense. What he was doing was a work of art, his hands making sure and steady movements as he began the healing process. It was a horrifying but beautiful thing. She didn't have much experience with healing beyond the injuries that she had received herself while fighting Hybrid. He'd broken her collarbone and ripped out a large hunk of flesh from her chest, way back when.

She pulled firmly with Dawali and both felt and heard the sound of the bone. They were working together to heal her, and Jefferson would have a part in this as well. But what would happen once they were finished? He couldn't carry her back the same way that he had brought her, not without jarring her injuries further. He should be focused on keeping the horse in control. She looked around, considering.

Ember and Hemming had been working on a project for weeks now, one that was nearly finished...but would that work? There was a harder dirt trail that led through one part of AniWaya, and if he kept to that then the way would be easier. And she could use pillows and furs from the storage area to cushion Geneva's broken body....yes, it would work. She didn't disrupt the healer or Jefferson, slipping away from the group to get the project. It was a small wooden cart. It was designed to haul wood or objects back from the city and had raised sides. Pieces of wood made a small frame over the top of it, pieces of tanned hide stretching over it to protect the cargo from the rain.

They had been about to start to use it themselves. Perhaps once Jefferson got Geneva back to the Valley, she or Hemming could go to retrieve it back, though. She approached the leader's horse and began to start to connect him to the cart, tightening the little straps on the harness and speaking to the beast in low tones. Jefferson could ride the horse and have it pull Geneva behind them. The cart's wheels were well constructed and would hold up. She went to one of the buildings that she had been using for storage, pulling out some of her furs from winter, beginning to line the cart with them.

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table by lin
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#17
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I'm assuming the place he can boil the water is in another room, so he went over there. :O


He felt drained, emotionally and physically. It was as if his body was melting to the floor and he was unable to stop it, and yet the relaxation of his muscles brought him a mild peace after the chain of frustrating events. He breathed and blinked and stared blankly forward in between the times when his name was said or they spoke in his direction, and Jefferson's mind simply wandered on and on. A thousand questions flew past, but he tried to answer not a one. The Patriarch's head spun and his eye saw nothing for a while, lost in a mist, until Dawali brought him herbs. The directions were pressuring but clear, and Jefferson was up in an instant, off to do what he'd been instructed.


Perhaps stepping into a neighboring room was best. He didn't want to see that agony, even though he was certain the sounds would not be omitted. A chill slid down his spine and he shivered; the herbs were hastily dumped into a pot, doused in water, and put to fire atop the stove. As always, the bubbles did not form immediately, and Jefferson found himself staring listlessly into the water there, watching the still water, the floating herbs, the fire underneath, and yet he saw none of them. He was lost in a mist yet again, thoughts buzzing, limbs heavy.


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#18
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ooc talk


There was a rushing in her ears, and all at once she started awake. Her limbs jerked reflexively and she took in a big gulp of air. Her mind was shrouded by the veil of pain and confusion descended, seizing her instantly. She turned her head slightly, hissing as her eyes adjusted to the light. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, and she was vaguely aware of hands on her. She didn't know whether she should struggle or not.

With her lime colored eyes out of focus, she searched the room for her touchstone. She could have sworn that he was somewhere nearby. Her mind was a jumble, a tangle of confused thoughts and impressions, but she had been almost certain that he had been there. Her unfocused gaze finally settled upon someone somewhat familiar. Dawali? What's going on? She couldn't make her mouth form around the words.


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