D'Neville Mansion, main room. Early evening (though it would be dark at that point). Word Count »
Oh how he despised the cold. It was hardly what it would be in the coming months, but already Enkiel had begun to feel the effects. His father’s bloodline had given him enough fur to survive, as a jackal alone would have perished in this cold. Still, he felt the temperature harshly through his pelt. For this reason he had donned his poncho, a thick woolen thing that was ragged and well-worn. He had found it last winter and was extremely glad he had. Most of his days were spent indoors when the weather turned, fending off the cold and eating what food was brought to him.
He had tested the weather and gone out to the river. Moss wouldn’t grow much longer in the cold, and it was an excellent filter (and worked well for stopping bleeding). After gathering what little remained, he had begun to head back…only to be hit with snowflakes as the sun began to sink. Irritated, he quickened his pace to a trot. By the time he arrived it was dark and he felt half-frozen.
Enkiel ducked into the mansion, unwilling to run all the way to the guest house until his poncho dried. He was pleased that there was a fire in the main room, and went here swiftly. Settling onto a footstool the jackal leaned his head onto his hands and rubbed at his face. His nose was stinging from the cold, but the fire was working fast. Black hair spilled about as the hood was removed from his head, framing a too-sharp face that spoke of his dual heritage.
It was a cold night, as they all had been lately, and moist, but now the rain was more like snow. Helotes stood on the large porch of the D’Neville mansion, smoking one of the clove cigarettes Ezekiel had so graciously given him; Kaena was at his side, sitting in an old creaky rocking chair and wrapped up in her cloak. "I hate this weather…" she said in that craggy voice that Helotes had grown to love, "wish it was spring again…" she rocked gently and closed her eyes, and Helotes knew most likely that she was going to be asleep soon. Lightly, softly, he pushed off from the porch and began to casually walk around the D’Neville grounds.
He was thoroughly enjoying his smoke, Zeke sure knew how to make these, just like Enkiel knew how to make tea, something which Helotes had secretly been doing on his own up in his room. His concoctions were no were near as tasty and soothing as the Doc’s but they sufficed on especially cold nights. Helotes released smoke into the air like a frothing dragon, and felt the tobacco and cloves take hold of his muscles, relaxing him.
He could hear a far off shuffling, of something large moving clumsily about and this perked his interest. It was getting louder too, and coming towards him. He tensed, when through the brush of the tree line burst forth Soal, braying and wild and heading right towards him. Helotes eyes widened and he was about to jump out of the way when the large horse stopped suddenly several yards in front of him; that’s when he caught sight of the orange. It was Zana, and she was bleeding.
The cigarette fell from his mouth as he lunged forward, spooking the horse somewhat but he managed to grab Zana’s pathetic and bleeding four-legged form off the horse’s back before it ran off in a beeline for the stables. Helotes looked over her body; she had puncture wounds and bite marks all over, her silk ribbons were hanging in tatters. Helotes wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped beating or that it was beating so fast he could not feel it, but without hesitation he entered a full out sprint straight back towards the mansion and leapt onto the proch. Kaena stood in shock, as her grandson ran past; Helotes nearly broke the door down, he knew the Doc was there, he had seen him enter not to long ago, ENKIEL!
She had barely been awake when she had somehow managed to crawl onto the large stallions back after he had rescued her from death. She had never thought the horse would throw itself into a fight to help her no matter low long they had ridden together. Saol had proven her wrong though. Though he had tried to be careful in getting her back to the clan lands she had lost all track of reality and had slipped away into unconciousness shortly after leaving the scene of the fight.
The tiny coyote didn't even realize when Saol had brought her to the safe harbor of the clans lands and Helotes had her gathered in his arms. If she had her senses about her she probably would have tried to demand he put her down, one so small should never have such abundance of pride, but it was the way of the world. Someone somewhere found irony in the tiny Lykois life so for whatever eternal being chose to amuse themselves in her day to day she would have to live a life of constant adjustment.
Her lilac orbs did flutter open weakly at the bellowing of Enkiel's name, somewhere her mind told her that the voice belonged to Helotes. She whined softly, confused as to where she was, what was going on, and why she was being held tightly by Helotes. None of it seemed to matter though when the throbbing pain hit her again as she cried out.
Hope this makes sense, it's a bit jumbled. XD He sent them to that room we used in the other thread. Word Count » +3
Suffice to say, the jackal nearly leapt out of his skin as Helotes’ bellowing voice shattered an otherwise still night. He was on his feet before the man broke into the living room, and wide-eyed, stared as Zana was more or less shoved into his face. She looked badly wounded, but what concerned him most was the fact that she was still bleeding. It meant she was in far more danger from blood loss than the actual cuts along her body. “Carry her to my room,” Enkiel ordered sharply.
While the dusk-colored hybrid took off like there was fire underfoot, Enkiel moved into the kitchen. Kaena had come to see what the fuss was about, and after a short explanation helped the jackal find the remains of one of the fat birds Ezekiel often dropped off for the pack’s elder. Zana would need something to help her body recover. With this in hand, he threw his cloak back up and crossed the grounds quickly. There was little time for talking, and any thought of sympathy for Helotes’ obvious desire to aid was something he did not show.
The larger man had made it to the mansion before the jackal, and luckily understood that Enkiel had intended for them to take up the resting room they had previously enjoyed a less traumatic night in. “Place her down and go fetch me water,” he ordered, and placed the bird down. Swiftly, he bent and struck the tinder within the wood-burning stove. It was still frigid within the room, but for now, his focus was elsewhere. Enkiel drew a pile of soft leather scraps from a nearby shelf as well as a smaller bundle of cat-gut. The waxy substance was his preferred way of stitching wounds, as he was certain he would need to do so tonight.
Word Count → 281 :: I'm assuming you're talking about the room in the guest house? So yeah... Helotes be crazy...
Though the jackal nearly jumped out of his skin when Helotes dramatically entered his calm demeanor returned quickly and he commanded Helotes to bring Zana to his room. Helotes was already mid dash before the last word was even uttered, and like a bird in flight he carried Zana to Enkiel’s room. Once in the chilly abode he stood, panting and managed to look down at Zana once more. She was breathing, and her lilac orbs shown through heavily lids a little. He was glad for this, but still frightened; he did not want her to die.
Enkiel entered the room soon after, carrying a dead bird from the smell of it and told Helotes to place her own the bed, which the Lykoi male did so gently that he even surprised himself. When he withdrew, her blood shown crimson on his hands and arms and he turned wide eyed to look at Enkiel, who’s calm demeanor both strengthened and infuriated him; why was he not more worried about Zana? Why was he not moving quickly! But Helotes inwardly told himself to shut up and went to fetch water just as Enkiel had commanded.
Completely out of his mind, Helotes grabbed the nearest thing for water he could guess, which just so happened to be the large iron kettle on the stove and ran like a demon to the small stream that went behind the mansion. It was freezing outside and the snow had started to grow heavier, now managing to stick on the frosty ground. But Helotes was on fire as he dipped the kettle into the stream, filled it, and then ran back to Enkiel as quickly as possible.
The small woman had never felt frail, never fragile until now. She knew how tiny she was in the arms of her dusky hued cousin as she could smell her own blood and the drumming of Helotes heart against her ear. She closed her eyes again and murmured softly, a slight protest of Helotes following Enkiels orders as she was placed on the bed. The scent of all three of them was still present in the room, the smell of herbs and the cold from outside, but none of it was stronger than the smell of blood. She was certain that she would never forget the smell of fear and blood that rolled over her. Who's fear was greater, Helotes or her own she wasn't sure of. It was almost funny to her weary mind but she didn't even have strength to laugh.
Enkiel was back for a moment as she tilted her head slightly to let her eyes follow the male as he began to work around her. She lay there quietly as he began to arrange things out in place. She caught the sound of Helotes returning as she whimpered. "I'm sorry.." her voice was whispy as she could feel the cold air changing around her. She wanted Helotes back but she didn't want to say anything.
A long time ago, he had been master of life and death. Dead men worshiped him and his kin. Once he had imagined himself Horus, but what was there for him the sun? No, he belonged to the river, the water, and the depths. So the jackal who was once Sobek ignored the world around him. He heard but did not hear the cries from the girl, and he saw but did not see the look of fury on the fact of the man. With speed that lacked panic, he cleaned his tools in the hot flame.
By the time Helotes had returned, he was prepared. Long, lean fingers dipped the soft leather into the cold water. It was frigid, but this was not a bad thing—it could numb her until he had prepared something to ease the pain. He used these wet scraps to wipe away the blood, and found that the major wounds were only two in number. While smaller scrapes and cuts were apparent, his concern was with the deep teeth marks over her shoulder. They ran down her ribs, and were bleeding yet. With her size, this worried him.
The secondary wound was near her thigh, and again caused by teeth. While this was also deep, it was likely the last one she had received. Deep near the front, it faded to skin-deep scrapes. The deepest punctures were leaking blood, but none to the extent of the wound near her chest. All of the rags were dropped onto the floor, now bloodied, their purpose gone. “Heat the water for me, Helotes,” Enkiel said, acknowledging that the male was likely not going to leave. “Zana, I’m going to need to close some of these wounds.” This was the only warning he gave.
With the catgut strung, Enkiel made the first stitch. He was fast—he could get through this in several minutes, though he was certain to the girl, it would feel like an eternity. There was no time to ease her pain yet.
When the dark Lykoi entered the room again he barely caught what Zana said and he was relieved. She was alive enough to talk, and that was all he could hope for. Helotes watched with dilated eyes and Enkiel began to work on his cousins body, and the fierce calm that the Jackal exuded swept over him and forced his beating heart to finally slow. Enkiel was the perfect individual to be a healer, he had a stubborn yet understandable bedside manner, was very matter-of-fact in his reasoning, but also had a soft hand. He instructed Helotes to heat the water, though he used the icy liquid to clean Zana’s deep wounds and Helotes dumbly obeyed.
He lit the first swiftly and set the kettle to heat the water before turning to watch again, making sure to now keep out of the way and silent. His nerves began to settle, but they pitch with every little whimper Zana let forth and Enkiel briskly stitched her wounds. Helotes was taken aback by his skill, his fingers nearly dancing over her. He wanted to ask how bad it was, for to him it looked terrible, especially on her small lupus body but he bit his tongue; the healer exuded an air of “keep your mouth shut”.
There was nothing the tiny woman could do. She was at the mercy of their healer and even that didn't seem to bother her. She trusted the two males before her more than most of the rest of the clan and if they couldn't bandage her up then she had risked her own life for nothing. She had let her lilac orbs close slightly as she just breathed, halfway listening to the words the two males spoke when words came about. She hadn't been prepared for the sudden shock of the cold water that trickled onto her skin though as their healer began to clean the matted blood from her fur.
Her eyes flashed open quickly as she would have yelped if she had the breath to, instead she was fully alert and drawn to the slight warning that Enkiel gave her before the needle pierced her flesh. Her back arched as tears welled up in her eyes. Her tiny fangs were bared as she snarled. The sharp bite of the needle hurt worse than the strangers fangs had. The wicked tiredness that was sinking into her bones causing each stitch that was lain to feel a thousand times worse than what it should have. She closed her eyes and sank into the darkness.
There was enough warmth between the fire and their bodies to begin heating the room. Enkiel disliked the draft of this place, and sorely longed for warm weather. He had suffered through one winter last year and was not looking forward to the days to come. Even now, his lean body felt the effects of the chilly weather all too well. No, he was not made for this landscape and often wondered why he continued to live here despite all these cons.
For this, he reflected, listening to the girl cry. Someone needed to do this, and who but him knew such skill? Enkiel remained focused on his task, noting as she collapsed into unconsciousness and pleased for it. The second wound was stitched during this time, and once this was complete, he sat back. Red eyes narrowed as he focused on the other wounds, rising suddenly. There were only a few things within the room, but those were the basic supplies he needed. A jar on a Luperci-constructed shelf was grabbed, barely taking the time to read the Arabic label.
Inside was a mixture of animal fat and herbs. This poultice was applied gingerly to these open wounds, as well as the stitched. He did not use much, unwilling to let the wounds grow too wet. “Helotes,” his voice called. “There are some bandages at the foot of this bed. Give them to me.”
He watched in agony as Zana’s tiny body tensed in pain, her muzzle open but where a scream should be there was none. He jerked slightly as he watched her fall into unconsciousness, but stayed glued to the spot. Her passing out seemed to please Enkiel somewhat and he finished up on her wounds like macabre flesh seamstress. Helotes watched with sad eyes, his large ears dropping pathetically as his Jackal cousin retrieved some foul smelling potion from the shelves and smeared said concoction on Zana’s raw wounds. The small dark man then asked Helotes to retrieve some bandages.
He rummages in a small trunk to find what the Imperium was asking for but soon found several rolls of clean bandages which he handed to the healer. His throat sticky he finally spoke, Is she gonna be ok, doc? He already somewhat knew the answer, seeing as Enkiel would not have bothered with the stitching and wrappings had he not believed Zana to survive, but Helotes wanted to hear it from the intensely silent jackal.
His umber eyes drifted back to her still form, she looked so peaceful now, even though he knew that once she awoke the sharp burning of her flesh would wipe this expression from her. For now, he reveled in it.
The tiny woman had been lulling in and out of dreams. She had been tended to before by the healers of distant lands and it would not have surprised her to find that she had fainted. The Lykoi would not have been embarrassed that she had done so, nor would she care that others had been present. She had a strong will to live and could put up with shame and humility if it meant breathing another day.
Her dreams though took her to another time when a different male had been looming over her and helping to tend her wounds as the healers did the gory work. Her eyes opened slightly and closed again as she whined. "Níl mé marbh fós..."I'm not dead yet.... she told them. Her voice raspy as she tried to close her eyes again and rest. The pain was like fire searing her flesh but she had lived through this before too. She shuttered and shivered against the alien feel as she just wished that the darkness would claim her again.
Instead she opened her eyes once more, those grey lavender orbs focusing on the two males as she quietly realized that this all could have been avoided. She cast her eyes away from the healer and her friend for a moment as she wished that she hadn't been so foolish. She had let her pride take over and believe that she was more than just an apprentice in her ranks. She had scouted and spied before, what had changed so. She knew though, these were not the lands of old and she was just another body that could be sacrificed in the eyes of the enemy. A fierce fire began to burn in her soul, stronger than the pain that ate at her flesh as she would find her own justice... somehow, someday.
Before she had left, Sa’adat had woven him several yards of bandages from strong fibers she had made. It upset him she had left so suddenly, but he was grateful for what she had produced. Hunched over the small woman his pale hands moved with a stillness that came from experience. A healer knew how to do such things; to use speed despite panic living in ones blood. He did not panic much these days; even this was not enough to panic him. While severe, and life-threatening, her wounds were not as terrible as he had first thought.
“She will heal,” was all he said. It was bad luck to speak of anything before it happened. This he had learned was truth—he had been superstitious as a child and while many had fallen away, some laws held true. Sure enough, the small woman managed to grunt out something in a foreign tongue before stilling some. She was awake, though, and he was glad for this. The dark haired man looked at her eyes closely, watching to see if her pupils dilated or not. “If you can stay awake long enough, I will make you tea. Helotes,” he said, looking back to the darker man. “Begin heating water. I will fetch her another blanket.” And he was off, slipping through the leather drop of a door and moving down to his storage.
Enkiel replied to his question matter-of-factly and Helotes nodded. Reading in-between the lines of the jackal could be difficult but Helotes believed he was getting the hang of it; he made a mental note to perhaps have a more heart to heart conversation with his Imperium cousin the future, he was an interesting man.
Zana then stirred and mumbled something that he couldn’t understand, and his ears perked at her. He hadn’t known she knew another language, just as most didn’t know that he could speak Spanish. Once she recovered he would have to ask her about this language that she spoke. Her stirring caused Enkiel to perk up, if you could call it that, and he ordered Helotes to start heating the water. The dark Lykoi complied as he had before, and quickly set the kettle to heat above the flames. His dark ear turned at the healer left the room.
Helotes was immediately at Zana’s side; she was semi-conscious and looked terrible; his ears drooped against his head. He turns her tiny paw in his, it was like a pup’s hand nestled in that of a beast. He slowly reached up and stroked the matted fur of her scalp, running a claw softly on her head gently, Mi querido primo ... que ha hecho esto? He would kill whoever it was… he swore it.
She had lain there like a limp ragdoll, breathing in and out as the slow spread of the pain turned into one fierce ache. It had taken a while to twist into the throbbing pain that was merely a reminder of her foolishness now. Zana was silent for a moment in time as Enkiel asked her if she could stay awake long enough for tea he would make it. She finally realized that he was speaking to her and in response she barely nodded. Her normally grey lilac eyes were glazed with pain as she muttered softly to herself, wishing she hadn't been so foolish to try her luck a third time near the borders of the pack's lands. All she had to show for her actions now were freshly stitched wounds and time out of service for her clan. She was barely worth the air she breathed. The small woman shut her eyes against the tears that threatened as her own self belittled her.
She hardly realized when Helotes had returned and picked up her tiny paw as she was battling with her own internal demons. When his touch reached her forehead she opened her eyes slowly again and stared at him without seeing him fully. It took several moments before she realized that he was actually touching her, her eyes finally focusing on him as he spoke the dark language of the spaniards. She knew the language but not what he said. There was nothing she could say in reply, instead a tear silently rolled down a bloodstained cheek as she beathed in and out slowly, steadily.
Enkiel did not have to go far to find another blanket. The second room he used for patients was empty, and the hides on this bed were sorted through quickly. A thick pelt from a reindeer was chosen, and with this bundled in his arms, the jackal hurried back to the other room. Helotes was next to Zana, who seemed unable to speak yet. This was for the best. “Here,” he said, and spread the hide over the small girl. As long as her heat was kept consentient, any fear of shock would be avoided.
His attention turned back to the shelf, and it was here he grabbed at several small pouches. Dried herbs were kept on hand constantly, and from this collection, he sorted out the ones he required. Lavender, chamomile; these would make her sleep. Opium seeds, previously crushed into powder, were also added…though he was light handed with these, unfamiliar yet with someone so small. It was a dose for a child, one that would help ease the pain of the wounds and his aggravation to them with stitching. Mint was also mixed in, to obscure the taste, and with this powder in a small bowl, he waited until the water began to steam (which did not take long; he had specifically found pots with copper bottoms yet undestroyed by time). With a practiced hand, he filled the bowl and lingered as the herbs seeped into the water. When a consistent color was reached, he turned back to the pair.
“I will need you to step aside,” he said gently (or at least, as gently as he was capable) to Helotes. Once the dusky male had complied, he brought the warm tea over to the girl. “Zana, drink as much as you can. It will help the pain and let you sleep.” He held the bowl for her, focused now on seeing how her eyes responded to his movements and how her body responded to his presence.
Enkiel returned much more quickly than Helotes had anticipated, and when the jackal entered the room the dark Lykoi quickly pulled away from his ginger cousin. The healer then place a large pelt across the girl, it nearly swallowed her, and with her small head protruding from under the furs she looked like a sick child. Helotes stepped away and just looked at her, as Enkiel went to mix the tea or whatever concoction it was he was making with the now heated water. As Helotes looked down upon her he could feel his fear ebbing but his anger building. How dare someone touch a hair on her head, how low could any creature be to attack someone such as she? Whoever had done this was a vile, disgusting creature who did not deserve to live. A growl started to grow in Helotes throat when Enkiel asked him to step aside.
He did so, his fur bristling though in mock aggression. It was not Enkiel’s fault that he felt this way, so he could not rightly get angry at the jackal, even if his words were curt and forceful. But the doc’s actions were gentle, as he held the small bowl up to Zana’s lips, asking her to drink. Helotes calmed then, knowing that she would be alright and that she would recover quickly under Enkiel’s watch. He was no longer needed here and his presence would only get in the way. So with that, Helotes silently bowed out of the room and exited the guest house.
He strode through the snow, the white stuff crunching under his paws. He set out to recover Saul, who he found lingered outside the stables. He quickly retrieved the stallion and set him up in one of the empty stalls, making sure to throw him some hay before exiting out into the cold again. He headed back to the mansion, and Kaena was no longer on the porch but when he entered she came up to him, "What happened to the little one?" She asked. Helotes looked at her with sad eyes, Was attacked, I don’t know by whom, she’s in bad shape. I think she’ll be ok though, Enkiel seems confident. Kaena bared her sharp, yellowing teeth at this news, "Stupid sons of bitches, they’ll get what’s coming to them." And then she started to walk towards her room. Helotes didn’t follow but nodded at her words, vowing to himself that indeed they would get what was coming to them.
Helotes be crazy...