Broken Boulder ne t’enfermes pas dans ta chambre
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pour tu @Zamael

she is some distance from the densite again when the world around her falls into stillness.  how interesting!  the wind stopped blowing through the trees, and even the noise of the birds and crickets started to die down.

plop.  plop-plip-plink!  milk begins to fall from the sky, only it is tasteless and much thinner.  

it is
wet.  she has decided rather suddenly that she does not like being wet, and that the rain should stop this instant because, hello, she does
not like being wet.

the rain, of course, does not stop.  perhaps if she had learned like most pups did that
making noise equals attention she would have collapsed onto her rear and started to squall, but solomon had only been taught that making noise makes mother upset, and she did not like to do that.

so instead she turned around and started to head back.  she was used to walking across broken boulder's rocks dry but with all of this meddlesome rain it was a different story.  she slips and tumbles and lacking the usual amount of baby-fat that children her age has she scrapes the side of her face and her front right leg against the rocks.

it is bleeding, but she does not notice, because it
hurts!  and now she does begin to squall.


done with your shit
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In a way, he felt bad for the pups at the Sanctuary. Their mother was an irredeemable bitch, and their father was in love with another man. It wasn't their fault that they had been born into such poor circumstances; it had just happened. At the same time, though, they were well cared for--fed and clean and all that jazz--and they had each other. He knew all too well the power of having a sibling by your side. You could withstand anything, with that kind of alliance.

A distinctively childlike cry shivered through the rainy air as he was walking along, disturbing him from his thoughts. Speak of the devil. Grimacing, Zamael trotted that way, kicking up puddles as he went. One of the girls--couldn't remember her name--was lying on the ground, wailing. Her face and her leg was bleeding; fucking hell, what had she gotten into?

"Hey, shhh," Zamael said quietly, pulling to a halt and crouching down beside her. "You're okay, kid, don't worry. I'll patch that up for you. Can you get up?" He stared dubiously down at the pup, wondering if she was indeed capable, or if she had, like, broken her leg or something. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he leans back to sit on his haunches, waiting for her response.
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solomon's code REALLY likes to break... sorry if i edit this one thousand times

adults always seemed to be around when she got herself into trouble. she wasn't quite sure how to feel about that, but she knew that she did not particularly like it. she looked up at the strange boy as she pouted, before she let out another hiccupping cry. noo, she exaggerates, thrusting out her injured leg before blinking up at him expectantly.

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Aw, jeez. He didn't really like kids, but he couldn't just ignore one that needed help, especially one that was clearly injured. Zamael let out a sigh, nodding in response. "Okay, okay, I'll get you something for it," he promised. "You gotta stay there, okay? Don't move."

Muttering under his breath, he slipped away quickly, making his way to his den and the cache of herbs he had there. Let's see. . . Oak leaves for the bleeding, and to stop the infection. He gathered up a lot of these, then grabbed one or two juniper berries, for good measure. These would help calm the girl down, at least. He pondered poppy seeds, but decided against it; he wasn't about to send the child back to Delight all woozy.

Zamael returned with the bundle of herbs tucked under his chin, the juniper berries held delicately on the tip of his tongue. He rolled them down by her paws. "Here, eat these," he said. "They taste kind of yucky, but they'll make you feel better." Not focusing on whether or not she would, in fact, do as he bade, he began to chew the oak leaves into a paste.

"I gott' put thi' on yo' scrat'hes," Zamael mumbled, the greenish goo coating his tongue. He looked down at the girl. "It'll may' you feel be'er, too. Is tha' okay?"
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solomon's code REALLY likes to break... sorry if i edit this one thousand times

it worked. she would not have to move her aching limb, and there is some kind of triumph she feels for it even if she is soaked to the bone in rainwater. not moving was easy. until he left her alone, and even though he said he was going somewhere she was kind of confused because she didn't want to be alone!

he came back quick enough, though, and her anxiety ebbed. as he put the herbs in front of her, her brow scrunched. @Alarian had said that
those aren't for eatin's... but she does it anyway after giving them a long, hard look. the berries were round and felt good in her mouth, and once her milk teeth pierced them a sweet liquid drained down her throat. she gobbled up the second one without protest.

she then watched as he put this nasty, foul smelling paste on his tongue and talked at her. she couldn't really understand him, so she just nodded.




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He softened his eyes at her, hoping to soothe her protest. It didn't take much convincing--she finally bent and lapped them up, then nodded at his inquiry. Relieved to have been given the go-ahead (he would have gone ahead, regardless, but it was nice to make children feel as though they had some agency) Zamael began to groom her, spreading the paste over the wound on her leg.

It was soothing, or at least it would be if she stayed still and didn't squirm. He began to relax, himself, during the course of his work, eyelids drooping slightly as he continued on. When he had finished, the man straightened, lips puckered slightly from the pungent taste of oak on his tongue.

"Those berries were okay to eat, I promise," he assured her, addressing her earlier concern. Zamael fixed her with a gimlet stare. "But don't ever eat a plant unless Alarian or I say it's okay." His brother, beyond himself, was the only wolf he trusted to give herbal advice. There were two other categories of beings: ones who meant well, but were fucking stupid, and evil bastards that meant the girl harm. He would not let this girl--nor any of the innocents--fall victim to either of these characters.
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I just love Zamael so much, lol. Also, congrats on post #100!

the oak smelled just as bad as it tasted, but it felt good on her leg. thankfully, she was not as squirmy and she did not protest like other children might have. instead she was fascinated by this process. she wondered vaguely if she could use this to help other things like bunnies and squirrels and maybe other wolves. maybe she'd injure one and then try to help it. that obviously sounded like the most logical course of action.

she gave a gentle nod at his statement. she wouldn't listen, of course. she was a child and she liked to put all sorts of things in her mouth that didn't belong there, like dirt and rain and rocks and dangerous plants. can you teach me?