It's a beautiful thing

Swentzle Byström · 12-09-2011, 05:38 PM

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Fore-dated to the 11th derp. (If that's okay with you).

Word Count → 600

Irinei was not entirely sure where he was. He'd woken with only a vague memory of where he was, and then he'd actually taken note of where he was, and this was not it. There was a pelt of some kind pulled over him, and a fire burning next to him, with the odd smell of unfamiliar spices drifting in the air around him. Dark blue eyes took in the scene with caution, and he pulled a hand from beneath the blanket, beginning to push himself up, only for his ribs to seize and convulse. He gasped, and dropped back to the hard forest floor, whimpering in pain.

"You are quite injured, my friend. We pulled you out from under quite a bit of debris, and it's a wonder you are alive." Swentzle, who'd listened to the whole thing from across the fire, rose and came around the campsite, tucking the injured dog back under the pelt before he could further injure himself. "Where...am I?" The white dog asked, but didn't try to move, as Swentzle now carried the airs of a healer. The wolfdog sat beside his injured patient, shooting a worried glance at the bandaged and splinted leg that lay beneath the furs before he settled again, calming himself. Worry would get him nowhere, and would only invite evil spirits to feast on their minds; it was better to stay calm and sure. He'd had two days to build the mask he wore now, and he refused to let it falter just because his patient seemed fully conscious for the first time since being injured.

"You are in my campsite, in an area known as the Dampwoods." He said, because details usually helped calm people down; it had always worked on the Shikoban warriors, and it was no different for the stranger, though he was still tense, as he was with unfamiliar people. Swentzle continued nonetheless. "I brought you here after you were crushed by a collapsing building. I've done everything I can to help you, but you've been unconscious." He folded his arms over his chest, lifting his head and then cocking it to the side so that he studied the stranger out of one eye. "I would like for you to answer some questions, and then you may rest more." Irinei found himself nodding, and relaxing back against the make-shift pillow as he waited for the interrogation.

"Who are you? You smell of no pack that I have come across, or I would return you to your people." Irinei closed his eyes and sighed. "My name is Irinei Pajari. I'm a marauder...not from around here." Swentzle nodded. "I am Swentzle Byström. You are free to stay with me for as long as you need, Irinei; I do not turn away the needy." He paused a moment, to think of anything else he'd needed to ask, but Irinei's eyes were drifting shut, so Swentzle simply rose and went to his wagon, bringing out a small bowl and a canteen. He filled the bowl with water, and then crushed herbs for pain between his fingers and left the leafy bits to swirl within the liquid. He gave it a moment to saturate, and then returned to his patient, lifting the white dog's head and holding the bowl to his lips. "Drink this, and rest. I will bandage your wounds again tomorrow." Irinei drank a bit of what was in the bowl, and then relaxed into his bed, falling into a deeper sleep as Swentzle contemplated what he was going to do with the male.

Table by Aly, code by the Mentors!

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