ooc:
A scar was but a representation of one’s will to survive. Proof of their struggle and their ability to overcome it. The larger the scar, the more grand the feat. At least, this was how the Exultare appraised the wounds that adorned their bodies since their puppyhood. The Issor’s own were well concealed by her full autumn coat and overtime they had moved and shrank, just as the still growing body of the young one’s would as well.
But this she would not share with the girl, firmly believing that time and experience would demonstrate it better. Instead as Lyris said a single word of understanding, the Nomad came closer with tongue extended harmlessly to begin the arduous task of raking away the dried blood and puss. It began slowly, the first lick coming swiftly but with a margin of time between the next to allow the shoulder to adjust to the pressure. With each lick, her muzzle dipped into the water to ‘clean’ it then brought the refreshed flesh up again to continue its rough cleansing. X’yrin worked externally around the edges of the wound until pristine white took the place of decaying red. Occasionally her fur would be marred again but with lively droplets as the more tarnished flesh was nipped away, bit by bit. Then when she came to the suppuration, she allowed her patient a moment to breath before grating her tongue purposefully across the center.
The laps became quickly with little pause between dips in the lake and back to the wound. For both their sakes, her as the nurse taking the infection onto her own tongue, and Lyris her pained and determined patient, she hurried as best as she was able making certain the area of operation was cleansed of dead flesh and blood before digging deeper to pull free the yellowing mess. And with a final dip of her muzzle into the lake, the last bit of grime and puss flowing away by gentle ripples, she was done and the flesh was clean. The internal edges of the wound were still inflamed, but it was with a healthy red glow as opposed to a sickly dark and yellow hue. X’yrin looked at her work with a curious tilt of her head then hummed softly. “Well…perhaps it will not scar as badly…” there was only relief in her voice at this realization. “But your shoulder will have to be wrapped for a few days, and your activities will have to be limited.” Despite what one would look at as a helpless situation, the woman smiled at her patient, attempting a more…optimistic view. “Suppose this means you will have to help me with a few crafting projects. Would you call yourself creative, Lyris?”