[P] Lend Me an Ear
Whisper thought of her mother and her family down in Bête Noire, it was Yule now, as a matter of fact, but Whisper elected not to visit her family again so soon after Mabon, she didn’t want to neglect her responsibilities within the pack or start to seem as though she was ungrateful for what Del Cenere had granted her. She felt lonely though, something she wasn’t used to. It used to be that the isolated girl craved solitude and reeled at the notion of social interaction, but as her soul began to mend, she found herself thinking more about the family that she left behind.

Her thoughts of home away from home and family were interrupted by a particular scent, one that was familiar in a way that made her wish it wasn’t. Pale eyes darted around for the color that belonged to the acrid metallic smell that met her sensitive nose and she followed the scent into town, at last finding its source. ”A..are you hurt...?” she asked the boy she’d found her way to, eyes darting up and down him, though her eyesight was poor at this distance. ”I-I know medicine.. I could.. t-take a look at it.”
It had been a month since he was attacked, pushed to the ground and a piece of him taken with the other one. This… male? Whoever he really was, had cut off his ear, damaged his nose by pulling out his previous nose ring, and tried to take out his eye. Pale purple orbs shifted as he pulled over his shirt in Optime, and then closed in pain, as a leather band caught on his ear. Wincing, he yanked it on anyways, and managed to tear it open a bit. The stench of blood, filled the air, and his other ear shifted in the silent reproach towards himself.

Of course, the idea was to let it heal by itself and wander about trying to find some food, yet, that was ended quickly whenever the coolness from outside irritated him even further, and without much thought he brought a claw to scratch at the once full scab. Now, instead of a small tear in the meat, it was full on opene again, blood poured healthily from the wound, dripping onto the cream fabric of his shirt. Ripping a piece of the sleeve off, he attempted to remedy it by tying it to his head, but it only worked so well, it would seem. And for some reason the blood on his ear seemed to be flowing worse than it had when it happened.

It wasn’t long, as he wandered, did a small, petite woman happen upon him. Furrowing a brow, he assessed her, watching as she titled a head and looked up at him from the distance. He approached them, watching as his shadow grew and soon— his six foot ten form— towered over her.

S’pose I might could use a stitch ‘er two, ma’am.” With the gap closed, he then used a right hand to pull the shirt away, revealing the wound that began to bleed, again. A playful shrug, and then a lowered head, staring down at the small, pale woman. She reminded him of Catalina in a way.

From the distance away that they had been when Whisper first spotted the male, all she could really see about him was his general size and color. He was an average sized silvery white canine, though despite him not being exceptionally tall, he was still a head or two above her own meager size and enough for the little hybrid to feel somewhat intimidated, not because of him or anything he'd done, after all, she didn't know this Luperci, but the deep seeded roots of memories better off forgotten had left these fears in her that made her biased towards larger males. Of course, that wasn't to say that Whisper could never grow to trust a male, her dearest friend in the entire world also happened to be one of the largest people she knew, but she knew with all her heart as well that Mithra would never hurt an ant or fly, let alone her. 

Regardless of her initial hesitation, however, Whisper approached the male, it was her duty as a healer to treat any patient, any injury, regardless of her personal feelings, and as she approached him closer, she almost began to think that this canine reminded her of one of her half brothers in coloration, and that thought gave her further comfort to be able to do what she felt needed to be done. It seemed that he had torn off a part of his shirt, now that she could see him more clearly, and was holding the fabric to his head to cover some wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, only, it didn't very much look like the idea had worked all that well, and there was still gobs of red seeping through. 

When the other acknowledged his potential need for medical assistance and finally removed the bit of sleeve from his head to reveal the damage, pale purple eyes widened and Whisper could at last see an ear that appeared to be only partly there, where the rest of it had gone, she didn't know, and wasn't sure she really wanted to ask, but she could see that rivulets of red liquid poured freely from the wound and nodded at his self made assessment that he might need a stitch or two to stop the bleeding. "I-I would say so." She agreed, and pulled the satchel she wore in front of her, holding into it for a moment as she looked up at the injured male, thinking he was rather nice looking and that it was a shame his ear had been wounded for a moment, before shaking that thought aside, as it was time to get to work.

Ever since Wayne had come to the slight witch with his paw pad cut open and dripping red, forcing her to bring him into her room in the inn in order to patch him up. Whisper had taken to carrying a bag around with her that contained everything she might need to mend this sort of wound, bad enough to require a bit of extra attention but not so bad that she'd need to perform any sort of complicated procedure. "I-I've got supplies with me, is there... somewhere you'd be comfortable having this done?" She asked, eyes lingering on the silver white male as she hoped he would take the initiative to lead her somewhere where she could do her work without interruption.
Lilac orbs widened, hands steepled under his chin, as Benny addressed her with a bashful glance away. Was it his towering height or the way he held himself and the wound upon his head?

Nevertheless, Bennett wouldn’t bother with logistics and semantics for things that were too above his own thought process. The fumbled speech, caused an inclination to his previous assumptions. Indeed, she was like Catalina. Timid, meek and shy. It brought him some comfort knowing this newest participant in the Ganglands, was someone with little to no warfare on her mind. Usurper or not, Whisper was kind, and he had no right to think such things. Overthinking was his speciality it seemed.

Oh. She had supplies with her? Now, either she was a wonderful conwoman or this vixen was indeed, just a run of your mill nurse. He shrugged his big shoulders and gave her a big, dopey smile. “Don’t matter much tah me, ‘spose’ere’s a fine place as ever.” Given with another shrug, he lowered himself to the ground, and now— level with her bosom— looked anywhere else but at her. Would be right proper for a gentleman to be staring at his nurses breasts, especially when every time he looked at her androgynous body, he was reminded more and more of his feelings to have Rafaela pressed up against him, and had to shift his weight for a second before he sat completely still.

Rafaela would be so much harsher with the way she spoke to him, so this little woman within his eyesight was only but a pretty speck to look at. Too timid for his own personal ambitions. He preferred those with emotional constipation and brash ways of handling passionate matters.

How bad is it, ma’am ?” He offered, letting his eyes not look up at her. If it were given she would want a more sanitary place, he would oblige and follow her wherever she wanted. 
oh hey hi ;D

When Whisper spoke to the silvery male, concerned over his injury, especially given the generous stream of red that was dripping down his silver white hair and onto the ground, his fur absorbing the stuff as it spread, she didn't know what she had expected when she asked if there was a place he'd be comfortable having his ear treated, but what she didn't expect was that the man would simply take a knee right there in the middle of the open where anyone could pass by and see what was happening. The witch stammered and started and stopped as she tried to come up with some way to tell him that that probably wasn't the best spot to do this in, but there he was bearing his wounded ear to the wheat furred waif to examine, and so all she could do in the moment was step closer. "P-p-pardon if this hurts..." She managed to mumble as she reached into her bag to pull out a piece of cloth, reaching up to gently dab at the blood coming off of his ear so she could better see the wound.

This was an incredibly awkward position for the wisp to be standing in. Sure, she was a practiced medic, she'd worked plenty on hands and arms and legs, she'd even delivered a few pups in her time, she was no stranger with getting close to her patients, yet somehow it usually felt that when she treated a patient, they were the one in a vulnerable or compromising position, but with the strange man's head so close to her body, she couldn't help but feel weird about it, as though she were far too close. 

When he asked Whisper how bad the wound was, for a moment she was a bit dumbstruck, not knowing quite what to say. It certainly wasn't going to grow back if that's what he was wondering, but in the end she swallowed her nerves and took a half step back, looking down at the kneeling man and mumbling, "I-It probably needs stitches..." She confirmed, wiping off her own hands after a moment before beginning to rummage in her bag again. "I-I have something you can take that will make it... hurt less..." She offered, her brows furrowing. "If... you want... that is." She pulled a bottle out of her bag and held it up slightly. It was an infusion of a couple herbs with a strong alcohol, valerian, lavender, chamomile, and honey, though she didn't try to explain this unprompted, unsure of whether or not the other canine would even understand what she was saying if she did.

"A-and I think... i-it would... b-be better to... to go inside, i-it's so cold out here..." She didn't think stitching an ear outside in the winter was the worst thing she could do, after all it wasn't raining or anything, but it was so cold out she worried her hands might shake and she would end up poking the male with the needle more times than was necessary. "We could... g-go to my room...? Or!" She began to suggest before her face flushed at the thought that what she said might be taken the wrong way. "O-or wherever you like..."

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