The sun bloomed above the horizon and cast radiant fingers between the trees. Lana watched charily from the shadows. She didn’t care to go out during the brighter hours of the day but she had heard from the young healer girl about a new slave in need of care. The woman was curious and had yet to return to the main dwelling of the pack. A light dusting of snow had coated the ground several days prior and remained although the heat of the day was already present.
The village wasn’t far from the cave and she got there quickly in the growing morning. Cas trailed her closely but became as weary as she felt as soon as the large wooden buildings rose on either side of them. She followed the scent of blood since there were no worn trails and could even taste it outside the slave quarters.
The door was heavy and Lana closed it behind her as softly as she could, allowing her burning amber eye to adjust to the dimness. She found the man easily enough and stood watching him for a long moment. He didn’t move, but instead found some sort of sanctuary through the only window. Skeptical glare took him in as if he were behind bars.
Lana approached him slowly. She wasn’t afraid, despite his size even while he lay chained in his birth form. He looked patched up, not that she expected less, but she could see in his own distant gaze he was till broken. There were a few large wounds enthusiastically bleeding so Lana circled him once more. Sharpened nail prodded one of his broken legs in a place where she knew it would not cause much pain. Silence splintered between the two as the woman looked on cynically.
She pulled her bag in front of her and dug through it. Cas found a spot in the shadows and sat, jade irises glowing the satirical light. A jar was pulled from her items and Lana unscrewed the cap. The scent was not dominating but it fled from the glass before she brought the herb to the man’s sores. Skilled fingers traced the outside of the bleeding gashes with a supple touch before bringing the cayenne to the source. It would sting just like the fragrance that permeated from the jar so Lana placed her palm on the man’s ribs. She shifted, moving to a reddened scar on his neck. Only a soft jingle from the beads on her necklace broke the silence.
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