Redhawk Caldera On the mend.

Tagging for reference; feel free to drop Raven in if you want! Otherwise AW! I'd love to use this for a trade thread either way.

It had been a couple of days since his return and he felt utterly lost. All that Tit wanted to do was find Green Eyes (maybe even apologize for how she was received by Elwood or, well, something), but he had been allocated to a certain space and wasn't well enough to contest against his new limits. @Raven tended to him from time to time, but the boy was often sullen or just mildly depressed as he worked through the events that led him to this point. In his head he vowed, 'When I'm better I'll go find her, and we'll talk, and maybe I can convince Elwood or Finley to let her stay...' but even that seemed like a far-fetched concept; Elwood had made his decision and there was no way weak and inferior Titmouse would change it.

I'd just like to state for the record that Ray's opinions are purely her own and do not reflect those of her roleplayer, lol. :)

Raven was in a dour state of mind these days. Towhee's recent promotion over her stung. She tried to be happy for her younger sister and the girl's inevitable path to leadership, but deep down inside, it rankled. With the exception of a few mishaps when she'd ended up lost, Raven had served the pack faithfully for the entirety of her three years and was its primary medic (and she considered herself a damn good one, too). To find herself brushed aside in favor of a youth who wasn't even a yearling yet -- a child she had raised, mind you -- was a bitter pill for her to swallow. She'd never really been an ambitious wolf who lusted for rank, so it was weird to her that she was so bothered by the whole thing. But she sort of felt like a tool that was only appreciated when it was needed, which fit nicely into the list of other things she didn't like about her life these days.

She sort of felt bad for being so judgemental of those who had left the pack. Maybe they'd had the right idea.

And she felt even worse for harboring such feelings about her sister and her alphas. She tried to trust in Finley and Elwood's judgement, but that didn't stop it from feeling really unfair sometimes.

She came now to check on Titmouse, her heart heavy and her head full of thoughts. Her brother-son's recent run-in with Blackfeather had only steeled her hatred of those sick bastards. I should become a warrior and go kick their asses. Maybe if I start inflicting wounds instead of patching them up, she thought acidly to herself, like Towhee does, I'll get a little appreciation around here. She approached her brother, who seemed to be healing up reasonably well, and the grin she gave him didn't have to be forced. She loved him and her heart ached to see him as he'd been since his return. "Hey Tit," she greeted him softly. "How's the leg feeling today? She'd kept him well-supplied with medicine to facilitate his healing and control his pain, so she hoped he was comfortable enough.

It irritated him to be stuck in one place for so long. Being unable to move about according to his own desires (even if those desires had gotten him all screwed up in the first place) was not something Titmouse thought he'd ever experience, and it sucked. From his sequestered hovel of trees he could spy on the rendezvous site - watching kids roaming about, or Towhee coming in and out on her patrols, sometimes others - made him grow bitter, and fast. Before long he was refusing to talk to anyone at all and had resigned himself to getting fixed up; and to be honest, he felt like a captive all over again.

He knew he shouldn't think like that. This was home, these were his family. One look at Raven as she approached made him want to smile, want to be happy, because he was happy to see her the most out of everyone. Yet he couldn't bring a smile to his dour face, and only grumbled a low toned, Don't call me that, when she greeted him - ignoring the other comment entirely.

Something about his tone hurt her and pissed her off at the same time. All the work she did and time she spent to help him recover and regain his strength, and all she got in return was dismissive, casual disrespect. Of course, Raven The Tool ought to have been used to it by now. She stopped her movements abruptly, her eyes weighted with a mixture of hurt and ire. Her smile fell away, replaced by a mask of neutrality. She started to reply to him two or three times, but every comment that came to mind was cold and snarky, so she just sat down and said nothing.

Well, he got what he wished. She stopped talking abruptly and there was only silence - and as it progressed he felt something akin to guilt for behaving like such a child. But wasn't he still a child? Titmouse had thought of himself as an accomplished warrior before, something of an adult and an aficionado (even if it was mostly in his head) and what had that gotten him? Broken bones and broken promises. He let that silence engulph him for the time being and tried to ignore the tension he had created and perpetuated since his return; the boy adjusted his weight and tried to cross his forearms so he could lay with his chin across them, pouting like an emotional asshole, and the attempt had him wincing ("Ow, fuck--!") and sitting bolt-upright to try and alleviate the pain in his broken leg.

A tense silence descended between them, and Titmouse (or whatever the heck his name was now) seemed intent upon keeping it that way as he sat there, sullenly refusing to speak or look at her. Raven knew the boy had been through a lot, and his anger and depression were normal coping mechanisms as he processed all that had been done to him and began the road to healing. She knew this, understood it. So why was it so difficult to be compassionate and give him the space he needed without being all pissypants about it? What was up with her mood today?

She was contemplating just getting up and leaving when the boy suddenly shifted, attempting to cross his forelegs. His broken leg pained him just then, and his curses were clear indication that the painkillers had definitely worn off. She arched a brow and looked at him, her voice cool as she commented, "Serves you right for being a jerk. Now be still." She rose to her feet and moved a little closer, looking at his leg with her practiced eye and noting with approval that the swelling had gone down a bit. He wouldn't be running any marathons anytime soon, though. "I've got something to help with the pain, if you want it."

Her comment made him scrunch his nose, but he said nothing. Then after she offered help, Titmouse seemed contemplative, and said, Will it taste funny? The tone of the question was lackluster at best, but he tried to pass a smirk to Raven; the expression was a bit pained but it was proof he was trying, at least. He knew if he wasn't so grim he'd have a much easier time with recovery but for Titmouse, having survived what he'd survived, it would take some time.

His question brought a small smile back to her lips. ”A little,” she commented, some of her latent sourness gone now. None of what was going on in her life was his fault and she had no right to take out her frustrations on him. ”But it’ll be worth it, trust me. Have you ever heard of echinacea?” She remembered him asking her to mentor him in medicine so she figured there was an interest there. Maybe if she could get him thinking about something else for a while, it could lift his spirits a bit.

Titmouse had almost totally forgotten his interest in herbology and all of that stuff, but he vaguely recalled having a conversation with Raven and watching her smile and making her feel good - that made him feel good by proxy. He had forgotten about Awinita too, for that matter. But as Raven began to ask him questions he sort-of remembered; mostly just the excitement she'd carried and the hastened manner of her speech versus the content. His smile got a little bigger and was a little more genuine. No - why? Does it taste like butts? 

The dynamic between these two makes me smile lots <3

As his demeanor lightened up, so too did hers. His question made her giggle a little, and she almost made a crass comment about him being an aficionado on butt flavors. But she stifled her crude humor and shook her head, grinning. "Not unless that butt was dragged through the grass first. I just think it tastes kind of bitter and...well, planty." Gee whiz, Ray, so helpful. "But it's an amazing plant -- one of my favorites, actually, because it's good for treating so many things. When it's in season, it's easy to find because it has these bright purple flowers. It's especially good for slower-healing wounds, like your leg here. I brought some, with a tiny bit of poppy seed to ease your pain and help you relax." She grinned, moving a few paces away to pick up the dried stalks and flowers she'd brought with her.

Me too!!

The more and more she spoke, the less inclined he was to try anything. Not so much because it sounded all that bad taste-wise, but rather, Titmouse remembered how groggy and weird he felt while in that cave. When she moved to grab the plants he flinched (and thankfully Raven was too preoccupied to see it); but then he watched as she returned with both the echinacea and the poppy (which he couldn't tell apart at all despite having listened to Raven's explanation), and sort of.. Zoned out while staring at them.

His mouth went dry and he felt a low-level apprehension settle in, like his skin itched. Tit shifted upright so he could scratch at a point beneath his jaw with one of his hind legs while leaning against his good leg, and then carefully readjusted. When he'd settled he murmured something like, What's the poppy for..? but there was a tonal drop to his voice that almost sounded like sarcasm. Tit thought he knew, but wanted to be sure -- because it was likely he had been given lots of that one.

She picked up on his apprehension right away (she'd raised the boy, after all) and she understood. She put down her little cluster of plants and looked at him earnestly, her face serious and her eyes full of warmth. "I promise I'm not going to impair you in any way," she said quietly. When Wildfire had shared her story, she'd told Raven that her captors had kept her drugged out of her wits. Titmouse's fear was well-justified, and although Raven wanted more than anything to help him, she wouldn't give him a hard time if he refused her treatment. "There's literally only a tiny sprinkling of poppy seeds here, not even enough to get you high. Just enough to make you feel relaxed, and to take the edge off your pain. I gave the same dose to Wildfire. She's smaller than you and it didn't dope her up at all."

Her explanation... Was satisfactory. Titmouse had to trust someone sometime, and who else could he trust more than his mom? He wasn't entirely sure who Wildfire was at this point, but he didn't feel inclined to ask, and just assumed it was another patient. Maybe someone they'd picked up while he had been - uh - away? The boy shifts a little bit so that he can loom over the plants, and dips his nose close so he can sniff at them; they're dry and only faintly aromatic, smelling more like leafy green grass than anything. Then he glances at her and solemnly says, Okay, he'll give it a shot. Just as they are? Or do I chew them up and spit 'em out?

Pride welled inside of her as he assented, and she knew then that this was testament to the level of trust he had in her. She grinned reassuringly as he sniffed at them, answering his questions, "Just eat 'em as they are. They'll taste funky and probably be weird and scratchy going down, but trust me -- they'll help." The little cluster of plants wasn't very big at all, easily chewed and swallowed in one mouthful. She had prepared it for him by soaking it in the cold water of a nearby stream to rehydrate the dried-out plants. Once well-soaked, she had sprinkled a very light dusting of poppy seeds over it. The seeds stuck easily to the wet surface, and as she carried the little bundle she took extra care not to touch or shake it too much so as to avoid too many seeds falling off.

Funky taste, got it. He nodded a little and then dipped his nose towards the plants, sticking his tongue out so they'd attach, and then slurped them in to his mouth. A few seconds of chewing later and he was swallowing it with a small grimace. She was right in assuming they'd be scratchy - but other than that, they seemed tasteless. Bits got stuck between his teeth so he began to work at them with the side of his tongue (gross), wadded up what he could, and swallowed again.

How long does it take? Tit wondered aloud, and then his face creased with a glum little frown. What if it doesn't work? That would mean he'd have to take more, right? It was entirely possible that the Blackfeather wolves had messed with him so much that he'd need a massive dose to redue his pain - he had no idea. A subtle darkness flit across his features as he thought of this but he chose to stay quiet on that topic. It was scary enough having to deal with a broken leg, let alone a dependancy.

She watched him eat the medicine and was actually impressed at how well he took it, considering it was his first time (that she knew of, anyway). She'd gotten all sorts of different reactions over the years from various patients who weren't used to eating anything other than meat. The most interesting had been just recently, when a wolf she'd just met ate too many berries too fast and had an attack of uncontrollable, horrible diarrhea in the middle of a conversation.

The boy still worried, though. "It'll work," she assured him. "If you need more poppy, there's plenty of room for us to increase your dose without messing up your head or getting you addicted. This really is a super-light dose." Having spent most of an entire season last year experimenting on herself with the drug, she considered herself something of an expert and felt comfortable working with it. "We can keep it minimal and limit it to those days when your pain really sucks. But I definitely think you should do the echinacea every day."

Okay, he murmured as he slid back down from his semi-prone position to one more suitable for relaxing; he touched his belly to the ground and then rolled on to his side (the one without the injury), and prepared for "lump mode" to settle in. There was no way for Titmouse to anticipate the sensations this stuff would give him, even if it was the lightest, most pansy-ass dose knwon to wolf. Without anything more to say he settled in to relaxation, and was dosing not long after that.

We can wrap it up here if you like! You should be able to count it as a trade thread since I tried to squeeze a little learnin' in there for him. :) Let me know if you want another thread anytime! Also, from here onward feel free to assume that Raven visits him regularly and leaves him medicines daily to help his healing.

She watched him as the poppy's gentle effects began to kick in. His eyelids grew heavy and soon he was drifting on soft clouds of sleepiness, his pain evidently reduced to background noise as she had intended. She considered quietly leaving and letting him get some rest, but decided against it. Something told her that it would be better if he weren't alone. Perhaps, if he were to awaken, he would take comfort in knowing that someone he trusted watched over him while he slept. Tucking her tail around her and laying her head across her forelegs, she enjoyed the peace and quiet while she contemplated life. Her earlier anger seemed so far away now. It was amazing how Titmouse seemed to have that effect on her.