blood and guts and stitches

POSTED: Sat Feb 02, 2013 11:29 pm

Setting Location Form NPCs
  • Location: Borders, CdC
  • Date: 2 February
  • Weather: Flurries
  • Time: Late orning
Optime Morty

1009 Oh, look! A medic Pack NPC for Casa di Cavalieri! 8D

Things were happening in Casa di Cavalieri -- a faint turmoil eating away at their ranks and threatening from the outside. Wayne had narrowly avoided violence at the borders he now patrolled, and he'd also narrowly saved his former protege's life (or at least another delicate thing) in the southern lands. He knew there would be more violence soon, and despite its troupe of warriors he didn't believe his pack was ready for it, in all honesty. He'd been hurt by the disappearance of Hadley due to their friendship -- but he also felt his absence all the more strongly now that the pack's only medic was gone, just like that. He was gone, and the Cavalieri could fight all they wanted, but even the best warriors bled, got infected, died.

The thoughts caused him to tense up, clenching one hand in Gypsy's reins, and the paint danced beneath them as they walked along the boundary of the territory. She flicked her ears and seemed as tense and ready as ever to fight -- and for that, he was grateful. He was damned useless without a good set of hooves at his disposal; they were his weapons as much as hers. But that didn't mean he wouldn't fight to the end.

Horse and rider continued on their patrol, made miserable by the snowflakes whirling in the air. Gypsy had to blink them from her lashes, and Wayne constantly wiped the stuff from his fur before it could melt, but he was wet and frost-tipped even as they walked on. It was at least quiet, and peaceful, and not snowing hard or freezing, for now. He almost dared to smile, at least until the mare snorted abruptly and stopped short, ears swiveling forward; he sniffed in the same direction, and smelled a wolf.

Wary, Wayne let the horse step onward a few yards to where the scent markers were strongest -- and, just beyond, there was a Luperci standing in the snow. Wayne was about to hail it before it noticed him and lifted a hand jovially.

Well hello there! the wolf called, her voice female and absolutely friendly. She trounced forward a few steps, wearing nothing more than a couple of accessories -- though she seemed well-built and thick-furred for the winter weather, her pelt a natural grey-brown mixture.

Wayne tipped his hat slightly to her, but he didn't dismount from the horse, feeling most comfortable there with the advantage of height and a warhorse's head between him and the stranger. He didn't speak unkindly, however, as he responded. Howdy. You're at the borders of Casa di --

Oh, I know! the she-wolf said, and he blinked before she twirled a jade bracelet around her wrist with her hand and added, Sir! I've heard of your pack, actually, and wanted to come to join -- but I heard the thump of those horse hooves and thought you'd just come to me.

She peered curiously at Gypsy, and Wayne snorted. She bites, he warned, but this only made the wolf grin even more broadly. Shaking his head, he went on, So why would ya want t' join? What d'ya have t' offer the pack? He paused and smiled slightly. And -- what's yer name? I'm Wayne McCoy, member of the Familigia an' stablemaster.

The woman smiled and nodded. Morty, she responded first. That's my name -- just Morty. She considered the next question for a second, perhaps wondering how to best phrase an answer. Basically -- I wanted a pack where I could practice my skills. She held three fingers up and ticked them off one by one, theatrically. I can fight well enough to defend myself, I can skin pelts, and -- I'm a medic, she added, and Wayne's brows shot up, which caused her to grin. A pretty good one too, I might add! And it was hard finding a pack to suit me, really; most of them were just a bunch of pussies, she said, unpeturbed when Wayne started coughing atop his horse, but Casa di Cavalieri seemed like it would need me the most, and you fight for a just cause rather than being all evil. She grinned, not apologizing for the rambling, and Wayne decided he liked her but was also a little bit afraid of her.

I won't lie, the Labrador said after a moment. We need a medic. He paused and looked down into Gypsy's snowflake-covered mane, as the horse idly rolled her bit around in her mouth and shifted her weight, comfortable with the amiable chattering that was going on. He supposed he'd want to take this one to Jazper and Alyssum directly to be more officially accepted -- and let them know they'd finally have someone to heal should the need arise.

Come with me, the mongrel said decisively to Morty, and wheeled Gypsy around, heading inward toward the territory. After a bit of hesitation, the green-eyed wolf smiled and jumped over the invisible scent line and strolled beside him. I'll take ya t' our leaders, an' they'll see what exactly t' do with you, he added, half-jokingly, and Morty only grinned at him.

Gladdened by this -- that she wasn't one of the grumpy medics, or conversely the ones with no backbone -- he decided to make some more small talk, get to know this prospective new packmate, since God knew he was bad enough at that. So -- why'd you decide to become a medic?

Morty beamed. Welllll, she began demurely, I'm glad for a chance at helping people and pulling my weight in a group. Also, she said, and her eyes flashed with glee, I really like to sew guts back into people.

Wayne kept his eyes forward. The small talk was going well.

Oh, nice scar! Morty gasped suddenly, and was poking at the claw marks going across his ribs. How much did it bleed?

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