Word Count → 3+ :: table © sie
The air was sweetening by the passing day, although with each new rising sun came a little more of the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. Alaine was an intelligent woman, and her instincts provided information her brain could not comprehend, manifesting itself as an impenetrable and growing dread.
Ezekiel had proved himself a valuable asset to the collie. He was a remarkably quick and willing learner, and with each morsel of information the highly-regarded Apothecary departed, the surer she became of her choice to take him on as an apprentice. His previous teacher had provided a solid grounding of basic medic-healing, the sort that dealt with wounds of the flesh and the blood. Alaine knew these things, but had already begun to teach the handsome hybrid male of more extensive weaknesses - diseases of the lungs, things within the body that no quick stitching could solve.
There was something magnetic about Ezekiel. A quality he possessed that allowed her, a most mistrusting and judgemental of creatures, to allow him full care over her children after only four days. Perhaps the exhausted mother had simply required a moment's peace so badly that whatever remnants of wariness she felt were buried beneath the layers of weariness and guilt. It was guilty pleasure, the time she took away from her children, although the keen edge of such an emotion was quickly losing its bite. Her offspring were Wrong; There was an unnaturalness in their very blood, incurable even to all her medical wealth of knowledge. It was simply how Dea had crafted her children - Part mortal, part madness of the spirit world beyond their own.
She had left Nana behind on this day, preferring instead to stretch out her own four elegant legs. It felt good to run free of her healer's satchel and her duty and worry and doubt, if only for a few stolen hours. However, a scent on the lingering breeze was quick to staunch that.
The cream and ivory collie stopped at the borders, her silky plume high and soft chocolate ears back, mixed signals of welcome and anxiety. She knew that scent, so very well, so very intimately. The Fae began to pace, uttering a soft whine into the tranquil silence. If he was near, he would hear her. The Warrior-King had come.
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