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Word Count: 317
In a daze he stumbled over the border, taking in the smells of his family, his friends - his tribe. The scent which haunted him some nights, because it had used to cling to his parents and siblings, yet now none of them were here. Now there were only strangers, almost, except one. Heart-wrung, he lifted his maw to the skies, attempting a howl which was interrupted as he fell down, too tired to carry on. His wounds were larger than he thought, and he had lost more blood than he had expected. Or, he had not expected anything. He was alive, and he had taken a life - and that was unexpected. He'd thought he was in on it till his death, and though he had considered the consequences of him dying, he had not considered the consequences of him surviving.
His breath was shallow as he closed his eyes and wished to give in to exhaustion. He could have slept it out, but he could not have stayed there - he had run the distance, and it had not made his situation better. His form curled up, as if placing his four legs closer to his stomach could make the pain and exhaustion and panic go away, but it did not. Instead, he would stay there, shaking, until she came. She had to come. She had to be here tonight. A strike of panic hit him, for what if she had chosen to be somewhere else tonight? He had never asked whether she had a lover, but that didn't mean she didn't have one. And what if she had gone to see her saltwater friend in the night? What if she could not come? The male shivered despite the heat of the summer morning - the sun was rising soon, and his red furs would then be aflame with all the colors of the dusk.
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[html] http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa22 ... rtable.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> She can shift and carry him? ^^ And you said four legs--he's unshifted, yes?
It was rare for the warrior to be standing on four legs, but here she was. Ember looked strikingly different when she was in her lupus form compared to her taller optime; her fur was fluffy and smooth, even in the summertime heat, giving her a slightly poofy ruff around her neck and a very furry tail. She was amost never seen in this form, and she hadn't been sure about shifting at first, but she'd rationalized it after a while of thinking the night before. Someday she could encounter a situation where she would need to shift down to this form. Maybe it would be to rescue a packmate, and she would have to get into some small, short area. She could go on her stomach in her optime form, yes, but it would be very hard to move around and maneuver that way. She would need to shift back into this form every once in a while to make sure that she still had the feel for it.
The wolfess had risen before dawn as usual, but today she didn't have plans to work with her sword or visit Utriu. It was like her body was on some kind of a clock, though; even though she knew that she didn't have anything planned, it had woken her up at the same time that she was always up and about in the morning.She had slept on four legs atop her pelt-covered mattress and jumped down from it, shaking her coat out of dust. It had been such a long time since she'd been like this. She felt very short.
She was still investigating the differences between the two forms when the call hit her ears. There was something eerie about it, that made her fur stand on end. It was Dawali, that much she was sure of...but it didn't sound right. And it had choked off at the end, like he hadn't been able to finish it. What could be wrong with him? On four legs the slender warrior was faster, and she came upon the scene before too much time had passed. As soon as his red fur came into view in the darkness she knew for certain that something wasn't right. He wouldn't be laying down in a normal situation...he would be standing up, greeting her with a smile. He wasn't in his optime form, which was also unusual. And there was an odd smell about him, a smell that made her stomach turn. She recognized it.
"Dawali." She said loudly, standing over him. Had he passed out? The light was getting a little better as minutes passed, and she was able to better see where he had been injured. Her heart raced, throat dry as she tried to assess the situation. He had called for her, but had he considered that she might not know what to do to help him? And how had he gotten so badly injured? She knew that the coyotes to the northeast were horrible, but wouldn't he have taken her with him if he had gone there? Many questions raced through her mind, and she tried to quiet them as she waited for a response from him. She nosed him beneath his chin, emerald eyes watching sharply for a reaction.
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Word Count: 332
Quicker than one should have though, the femme arrived, but for Dawali it had taken very long. His eyes watched the ground before him, sideways, not looking up, but when the scent reached him and warned him of her arrival, he tried to include more of his surroundings in his line of sight. The only thing he did about it, though, was moving his eyes in his skull - the rest of him dared not move to catch a glimpse of her arrival. Soon enough he could see her paws and legs in front of him, and ironically she had four of them as well. His tail twitched nervously as her nose came down to greet his chin, not used to physical contact of such a kind, and not really welcoming it either right that moment. Everything was pain. He needed her to apply the herbs. His voice was harsh, but revealed that he wasn't as close to collapse as he looked, even if his legs refused to carry him. He spoke slowly and with effort, but there was still a hint of that usual strong depth in his voice. Ember, I have some herbs... He lifted his head a little to look at her, and realized she has four legs. No hands. Well then, they'd figure it out. He probably needed a wash before the herbs were applied, to make sure they worked with him and not remnants of.. someone else. His mind confused him a little for a moment, forgetting the proper order of things within his medicine trade. No.. His head was laid down on the ground again, and using his forelegs he attempted to get up - only to realize his shoulder pained him more than he thought it did. With a wince he let himself down again, before reaching a distance of even a few inches from the ground. He did not want to stay here - did not like laying on the ground. Water, then herbs.
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[html] http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa22 ... rtable.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Feel free to PP them arriving there and going inside and whatnot :o
The only benifit that she could see to this form was the fact that she had been able to get to him faster. It was a good thing that she had chosen to shift the night before and not this morning and that she had gotten a good rest; she nodded when he mentioned herbs, closing her eyes and concentrating on the change. She didn't want to waste precious minutes shifting, but she didn't know any other way to get him home. "They're in your den? These herbs?" She asked. Ember was no herbalist. The only experience that she'd ever had with medicine was when she had been fixed up herself, by Naniko. Her sister had an aptitude for that kind of stuff, and Ember had offered her a body full of various types of wounds.
"Water? Are ya thirsty?" The Ayastigi asked as well, finishing the shift to Optime. She felt odd to not be clothed, but it wasn't something to worry about now. "I'll take ya there. Now you lay still and let me. You're just gonna hurt yourself worse if you don't." She leaned down, being mindful of his injuries, and began to lift him. The best way to carry him became evident after a few moments, and the werewolf moved him carefully so that she was holding him partially over one of her shoulders. She didn't want to touch the wound on his back or press it against anything on accident.
She started walking quickly, not wanting to run and shake him up. Whoever had done this to their leader...they would pay for it if they hadn't already.
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What he had meant as one sentence, she interpreted as three, and he realized he might be further off into danger than he'd thought. Two of her own sentences flew by him, and she asked him if he wanted water. Wanted and wanted - he needed to bathe. The wound at his back was causing him less and less pain, and he suspected it was not a good thing. The herbs were in his leather pouch, fastened around his waste, now and always. He never left for any place without it, and today was the day when that habit became a blessing. Attempting to now respond quicker to her words, for she was younger, stronger, better, and he was old and weak and wounded.
No.. The herbs are in my waist-pouch. The water isn't for drinking. The wounds.. need tending. Before the herbs.
Two reasons for this; his coat was full of sweat and blood and saliva, and while some of the herbs did well in neutralizing such things, he didn't know whether it would be enough. Also, when the wounds healed.. if he did not wash them, would there be traces of him, left in his body? The thought made him shudder, and as the female lifted him as gently as she could he grunted with pain, but said nothing. What was there to say? First water, then herbs. Then rest. No, he could never rest. First he had to make sure he could live, and then he would tackle the monster in his being, which chewed at his conscience. He'd killed someone and he wasn't entirely certain what he thought about that.
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ooc:
She made it to the main part of Aniwaya, the village area, and set him down carefully. There was water here, she knew, she'd seen it in jugs. River water was ok, but this stuff had been sitting here for a while and she thought that it might be cleaner than the water from the river. She'd boiled a few jugs of water, too, to clean it when she had first come here...for cleaning her own wounds with. Were they still here? The female had etched an "E" into the caps on the jugs. "I'm going to get some clean water...you sit still and stay awake. I'm gonna need your help to get you fixed up." She hadn't even thought of looking for a healer; she was here for him, and as long as he had the knowledge and didn't fall asleep she trusted her own ability to help. Ember came back with two jugs, setting them beside him.
She reached for the pouch that he had specified, pulling out the small bundles of herbs. How could he make heads or tails of these things? All the plants looked the same to her upon first inspection, but as she looked at them she could make out differences between them. She would listen carefully to what he had to say. "I have a handkerchief in my cloak pocket...I'll wet it down." She poured water over it, soaking the dark cloth. "So I clean them first, but then what? Which of these plants is for what?" She asked.
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Word Count: 369
The femme couldn't be more wrong in her assumption towards still water being more clean than river water, although it didn't matter. To use some of the herbs she would have to boil up water anyway, and it didn't matter what water you used when you were boiling it in the end. She left to get clean water, and before words of protest could exit his mouth she was gone, although she returned soon enough, carrying some mugs of water. He had wanted to tell her to bring a pot of some kind, and perhaps some firewood, because they would need it.
Once more it was evident that she was effective, and right this moment he was not at all. She had already soaked her handkerchief in the water and asked him some questions about the herbs before he had thought out everything he wanted to say. When he was done thinking it through (it wasn't easy, trying to call forth all this information on herbs and remedies, when his mind was not clear), he finally opened his mouth and looked straight at her, spilling out the information in one long string of sentences. His voice was growing increasingly shallower, and it sounded rough as he laid there and spoke. First... Boil some water. Then add two herbs - one is with small purple and.. blueish flowers, lots of leaves all along the stem. The other is a large, bright yellow flower. Their names were rosemary and marigold, but he did not bother with such information. They didn't have time. Pausing for only a moment, he drew his breath deeply and continued; Let the water cool, remove the flowers, then use it to wash the wounds while the water is warm, but not hot. Remove what signs of healing that is there...they need to reopen fully, to be cleaned. It would be painful, but endurable - hopefully. He didn't entirely know how it felt to rip open wounds that had already started to heal, but he was certain it wasn't exactly pleasant. The risk of infection was too large though, and it was simply necessary. They couldn't have healed much, and it wouldn't be hard to open them again.
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ooc:
She started the fire easily enough, having started many of them in the past, and placed around ten large stones in a circle around it so that it couldn't stretch to burn anything outside of that circle. She went to look inside one of the surrounding buildings for a pot as the flames grew, finding one after a few minutes of searching. When she came back the fire was a decent size and she placed the pot over the flames, pouring the jugs of water inside of it. As soon as that was started she immediatley turned to the next task, picking through the herbs to find the right ones. She had to do this, she had to do everything perfect. She wanted him to heal so that he could go and be their fearless leader once more. What would they do without him?
The water was warm, but not too hot or too cold. The female had it sitting in the pot beside her, a cup on the ground for her to use to pour it over the wounds. In some places, dirt had crusted with blood to form clots...she held her short knife over the fire for a little while to kill all the germs on it before using it to dig carefully through those clots. Then came the treatment with the water. She watched him all the while, trying not to show her anxiety.
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Sorry for the crappy reply and the wait and everything >_>
A yellow gaze followed the dark female as she worked to do as he said, for some time leaving him alone with the fire. He knew she would not leave him, and at first he appreciated the little time alone as well, even if he knew that was not its purpose. He studied the flames of the fire as they grew lager, played around the pieces of wood, and in their midst he could see his own face clearly. As if because they were the same color as himself his face belonged among them. He wasn't certain, but the association was not to his liking. His eyes watered with the brightness of the fire and he looked away, looking at nothing. She'd indirectly given him a moment to think, although he wasn't certain he wanted it after all.
Wordless, he kept watching her as she heated a knife, preparing himself for the pain. It did not feel unfair for him to have to endure this, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to it. Anyone who did would be sadistic or something. When the knife touched his wounds it carried with it varying sensations - sometimes hardly any at all, and sometimes enough to make him groan with discomfort. He knew better than to complain, however. After all, he was the one who had demanded she do this. The male attempted, as often as he could, to shoot his trusted friend some glances of appreciation and assurance, if only to attempt to express his own gratitude. The herbs and water mix stung when applied, but he knew this pain - it was a better pain. It would heal him, and hopefully he would not look a scarred old man.
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ooc: It wasn't crappy and it's ok :] <33333
She had quietly followed orders as he had told her what to do and how to do it, but she couldn't hold the questions in any longer. "Dawali, what happened to you?" What had he done out there that had gotten him so badly injured? It was the leader's duty to look after their pack. Or tribe. How could he have put himself in such danger? As she thought about this she frowned, continuing to clean and dress the many wounds that marred the older tribesmember's body. She was nearly finished. But then what would happen? Would he tell her to leave him alone? She certainly wasn't going to do that.
"Why would you do something like this, endangering yourself and your tribe? You are the heart of the tribe--but you risked your life for some reason. Why?" If he had these herbs on his wounds, did it mean that he was going to make it? Did the herbs make that big of a difference? It probably wasn't her place to be questioning him while he was in this weakened state...but what if he didn't make it? Even the possibility that he might not survive this or might not have survived this made her angry now, the more she thought about it. The tribe needed him--didn't he see that? Why had he done something like this to them? "I would have fought alongside you."
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Word Count: 381
He'd dreaded the moment, although he knew it would come. He had - naively - hoped it wouldn't. It was only natural that she wanted to know what had happened to him, although he was in no way fit to talk about it. His body was tired, and he reeked of blood and bile. He would survive fine, but he needed rest, and his weakened heart very nearly protested when she asked him for answers. The male remained silent, and his yellow gaze was on the ground. He was not the sulking young child who refused to answer, he was the pained old man who did not know how to. He hoped she would not ask further when he did not answer, but when she asked again he wasn't surprised. Every word she said was true, but if she knew she would understand. He hesitated, not wanting to acknowledge his doing as fact, as if repeating the event in words would make it more true, more real. His hesitation lasted long enough for her to speak another time, and now heat rose in his face, ashamed of himself. She cared for him, did everything he asked of her, and even though he offered nothing in return she would have covered his back had he asked her. Well, it wasn't as if he had planned this, and if he had he would have asked the dark femme to come along with her sword. There had been no time. His mind played hastily through the events in the order they had happened, from his first encounter with the male, until now. Sighing, he attempted to explain as best he could, with as little detail and words as possible. His eyes remained on the ground.
It was an unplanned thing. My friend Cwmfen from Dahlia de Mai had chased down the loner who attacked Noir and Oceane, and when she fell I took her place. Pausing, he finally glanced at the female in front of him, now ashamed and shy at the same time. He tried to be their strong leader, and it felt awkward to be as emotionally vulnerable as he was right then. He was my superior in every way, but Cwmfen had wounded him heavily. Otherwise I would not be here.
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Is it ok for me to PP her moving him/picking him up?
"I guess if you were defending a friend..." She mumbled. "But still. We've got warriors here for a reason. If you even think something might be coming up, you should come to me. Maybe there will be some way I could help." He was only one wolf, and no matter how strong or brave he was there would eventually come a battle that he would not be able to win without help. This one had almost been that way. Ember's frown didn't go away at the news that the bad creature had been taken care of; she couldn't believe that she hadn't known that Oceane and Noir had been attacked.
Ember stood back with a sigh. There was nothing that she could do now, and Dawali needed to be back at home so that he could rest. She leaned down to pick him up once more, putting whatever herbs were leftover back into his pouch before she lifted him up. "I'll take you home so you can get some sleep and start healing. I can go hunt in the morning, and bring you some food until you're well." She began to walk.
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Yeah that's fine, he's a useless potato sack by now 
Word Count: 322
Tired and weak, Dawali felt anger rise in him, what little he had in him that could be directed at someone who tended him like this. He felt as if he was being judged, and perhaps he was just defensive because he was so tired and wanted to sleep, or perhaps something else was the reason why he so wanted to justify his actions. Certainly, everything he had done was for justice, and he had not survived so far to be patronized when he returned home. His voice was quiet and calm, not a trace of indignation in it, or anger. He never spoke quietly, though, and perhaps that was what distinguished his mood. You think I would not have called for help if I could? It was then and there, or not at all, and I was so far from here. He'd run so far, so incredibly far. And he was tried.
The red wolf male did not protest when she lifted him, he was perhaps tall but he was thin, and hopefully he didn't weigh too much. If it was hard she could probably call for a horse or something. Uncertain as to what to say or do, he simply stated the truth and did nothing more. Thank you. I have food in my den, though, some fish. Not that he would eat them anyway. He wasn't sure when he could reward himself with such a treat as food, even if he knew he needed it. And perhaps, by his words right then, he was distancing himself from his friend, but by every glance he threw at her he grew more uncomfortable, and he didn't seem to be able to safely find words like he usually did. Being carried didn't help, and it felt strange with her arms around his form like that. Perhaps he was tired and uncomfortable with being taken care of. He wouldn't know until he had recovered.
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It did seem that he'd done all that he could do with that situation. She couldn't help but want to tell him how she felt about it, though, after being the one to come and help him out. She would always come to help him, even if this happened again...but he would get an earful about it each and every time. She wanted him to be safe and to think of the group's safety as well as his own. By the time he would have come back to get Ember, maybe the wolf would have gotten away. It was a hard choice, but it looked like he'd made the right decision.
"Well, that won't stop me from checking in. Not like you can really get up and get away, either...so you'd better get used to it." She didn't find him to be too heavy, as she had trained with many heavy weights...and she headed toward his denning area to drop him off. She'd be back in the morning to check on how he was, then later in the evening, then the next morning.
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Post again if you want, if not just archive?
She said nothing right then, and perhaps it was for the better, because he might very well have regretted calling for her at all if all she would do was to reprimand him for his actions. He was tired, and when he was tired he was irritable. Besides, he would not stand for being patronized like a child when he had nearly sacrificed his life for the safety of their tribe. Perhaps Ember had not known of these attacks, and the threat Brennt had been to their world, but she still had no right to question him. The male quenched his anger with the silence, taking it as a sign that the warning had gone home, and said nothing more. There was no reason to get angry now, anyway, and he had to be grateful to her for her help.
She decided that she would check on him, and Dawali sighed barely audibly, as if resigned. He could not object, because he knew that if it was her that was sick, she would not have been able to stop him for anything in the world. Perhaps it was time that someone took care of him, since he had devoted his life to take care of everyone else. His herbs kicked in as she carried him to his den, and soon enough he was half awake, half asleep. Sometimes a snore would escape from his maw before he snorted out of it, and his head lolled this way and that, as if not able to decide where to stay. By the time the two reached his home, he was fast asleep, tongue out and eyes closed. It was medicated sleep, but sleep still.
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