Unable to sleep, Pied rose well before daybreak. She left her mate sleeping peacefully in their den and headed down to the beach to take a walk, fetch some breakfast and prepare herself for the trek to the plateau. Despite the cold, she plodded along the water's edge, even holding steady when the surf began to lick at her toes with its wet, icy tongue.
Something caught her eye and she paused, looking out over the ocean. An enormous fin cleaved the water, slick and black. Pied started, recognizing it as belonging to one of the massive beasts she called blackfish. Entranced, she watched the fin bob and weave in the choppy sea, gliding parallel to the beach. When it drew nearer, she spun slightly to face the water, hoping to catch a glimpse of this creature of the deep.
Suddenly, the water roiled and frothed directly in front of her, arcing strangely, in the wrong direction. A massive black shape came flying onto the sand with startling speed. Pied didn't even get the chance to back up a single step before several thousand pounds of mobile marine mammal struck her. She yelped sharply as the blackfish flicked its great head, its teeth missing her but its momentum knocking her flat and crushing her to the sands.
Unable to grab her, the orca writhed its way back into the waters, sliding along the wet sands and then riding the tide back out into the open sea. It left behind it an unconscious Pied, one of her paws twisted the wrong way and myriad internal injuries likely after taking such a massive bodily blow.
I was going to assume that Pied wouldn't respond, but I don't know for sure, so let me know if I should edit... otherwise I'll continue after you post!
For one who so proclaimed to hate the sands of beached, Dublin found herself on this part of Horizon Ridge's territory more often than not—perhaps, deep down where she would never admit it, it meant that the Redwood daughter truly loved the place where tides lapped at the shore and gulls shrieked their songs as they careened through the sky. Often, she found herself pacing up and down the length, breathing deeply in the cleansing scent of sea salt. It was quiet here; far quieter than Watchtower had ever been. As much as she might claim boredom, she truly found solace in the slower-paced lifestyle.
It was on one of these private walks on the beach, the sun barely breaking over the horizon, that the point-colored woman spotted the distant form of another—to far away to make out exactly who it was, especially with the way that the rising sun played with shadows. She was about to turn away, to leave whoever it was to their peace, when the tide began to shift oddly. Dublin stared in awe; in all her life on the seaside, she had never seen the ocean behave in such a way. But too late she realized what was happening, and a black behemoth rose from the depths to knock the miniature silhouette of a wolf over like they were nothing more than a ragdoll.
Instinct took Dublin, then, and her reservations about the territory vanished in an instant. She was running now, her small build blessedly built for speed—her paws barely seemed to grace the wet sand beneath them as she moved. Faster than it might have taken her brothers, the cream-colored female found herself standing over the familiar form of Pied. She leaned close, her nose touching that of her superior's, and she held her breath.
Pff, came Pied's own, then—and Dublin got down to business.
She would need assistance, but there were other things that took precedence.
"Can you hear me?" Dublin asked sharply, her voice loud enough to startle one that was merely sleeping awake.
The brutal impact knocked her senseless for several moments, leaving her drifting in a black void several fathoms deeper than sleep. Slowly, though, consciousness crept back to her. She could hear the faint crash of the surf, smell the cold, salty air and... taste the blood on her teeth. As she began to rouse, Pied attempted to lick her chops, though her tongue wouldn't function properly and ended up poking out of her snout rather sluggishly and then dangling there.
In the moment just before her eyes slowly opened, Pied felt a wave of pain wash over her body and she moaned. She tried to move but only managed to jerk feebly on the ground. When her eyelids fluttered, only one—the right—could open fully, as her left cheek rested on the sand. She could see a sliver of lightening sky above the rapid tide, which slid up and over her bedraggled body.
Having missed Dublin's arrival and initial question, Pied only became aware of her company when she caught the other she-wolf's scent. "Dub... lin?" Pied rasped, her mouth still tasting metallic. She wanted to raise her head, yet the agony prevented her. "Blackfish," she whispered, her mental faculties fully intact despite the hit she'd taken and her momentary blackout.
She tried to overcome the pain and lift her head or otherwise move, yet she found she couldn't. Pied whined, panic rising within her. "How bad is it?" she whispered, afraid of Dublin's answer. There was blood in her mouth; the pain she felt now was like nothing she'd ever felt; and she couldn't even lift her head. "'m I going to die?" she asked, her voice so thin with fear that it almost couldn't be heard.
Dublin hadn't expected the piebald female to escape the grips of unconsciousness so quickly, but after a few heartbeats had lapsed after her query, the white female began to stir. It was subtle, at first; jaws parting slightly to allow her tongue an escape, the fluttering of eyes, a pained moan. Still, experience told Dublin that it would be some time before the yearling could answer her queries intelligibly—and so she had begun pressing her snout gently against Pied's throat, ribs, kidneys, and along her back... making note of every sharply drawn breath, every difference in texture or heat. With that assessed, Dublin prepared to set the mangled paw—
"Dub... lin?" came the rasp, and the elder female's silver-blue eyes swept up towards Pied's face. She paused in her position, for a moment debating whether she should simply set it without warning, but the younger female's queries stayed her ministrations. "I saw," she murmured gently, comforting, "You are awake now, and that is good. Not much time has passed." Dublin's voice was soothing, but matter-of-fact. She continued to speak, knowing it was unlikely that Pied would truly absorb much of it in her shock, but the gentle stream of words was known to comfort most patients. "You will have bruises, to be sure, and some mending to do—but you will not die in my care," this last part was said fiercely, passionate. There was no question that Dublin would not allow Pied that fate.
"Your right hindpaw is badly broken; I will need to set that, and it will hurt," she continued, "That will be difficult, as it lays beneath you—and you are in no condition to move as of yet. Your left shoulder is dislocated, but I can move it back into place: you will feel a sharp pain for a mere moment, but you'll feel some relief immediately after." Dublin paused to let that sink in, though she did not wait long enough for the yearling to be consumed by hysterics, "Which shall I take care of first, Pied?" She would give her patient her preference, were she able to make one. Often, giving the wounded a sense of control did wonders for their immediate and long term well-being.
As Dublin spoke, Pied finally ceased struggling against the insurmountable pain. She focused on the other female's voice, feeling the panic subsiding ever so slightly as the Kappa's firm, gentle tone reassured her. Pied clung to the words you will not die in my care with particularly desperate hope.
Disturbingly, she felt the sudden urge to laugh. She hiccoughed instead, which sent a splinter of pain through the center of her body and elicited a deep groan. I was supposed to go see Hawkeye today, she thought bemusedly, then panic abruptly sunk its talons into her sharply once more when she remembered why she'd been planning to visit the plateau. Will I be able to have pups...?!
Dublin's utterance of her name knocked her back into focus and she lifted her head a few inches without thinking, only to wince and let it drop back onto the sand. She mentally backpedaled, replaying Dublin's assessment. Bruises, right hind paw broken, left shoulder dislocated...
"My neck?" Pied gasped. "My back? What about my insides?" Realizing she'd ignored the would-be medic's questions, she clenched her teeth together—accidentally biting her wayward tongue in the process—and said, "Do the worst one first, please." She closed her eyes, fighting back tears.
She was not surprised at the questions that burst forth from the piebald yearling, those that had little to do with anything she had spoken of. The panic was natural for one in shock, and especially for one so wounded—but that Pied felt such pain was a good thing, for it meant that she was still very strongly in the mortal world. Dublin murmured patiently, soft whines meant only to soothe. If she were honest, Dublin was worried about the vertebrae of her patient—they could be easily damaged with such a blow, but if they had been, there was little even the most skilled of healers would be able to do to save her. A wolf without full use of its legs would surely perish, unable to hunt or provide for the pack... but Dublin shook such thoughts from her head.
It was likely that the dislocated shoulder was merely pinching a nerve in such a way that made Pied think she could not move her spine. But the yearling had asked for the worst to be done first, and so Dublin returned to her position at the hindpaw. One of her cream forelegs braced the damaged leg, and she bent her head down to tenderly position the paw with her jaws; this would hurt, but not nearly so much as the next task. "Tell me of that which you love, Pied," Dublin cooed softly, silver-blue eyes intent upon the yearling's face. She listened to the first few words spoken, genuinely interested, but then—
Snap!
The sound was still awful to Dublin's ears, though she had set many bones in her time. It was the grinding, the eerie sound of bone-against-bone as it was abruptly forced back in place. Her ears flattened, then, in a futile attempt to guard against Pied's likely scream. But Dublin was already moving, scanning the shore for seaweed and driftwood—such things were never far. Before they could do any good, however, Dublin would need to move Pied from the tide. Without the dexterity to tie the driftwood to Pied's paw, Dublin must wrap it and wait for the seaweed to either dry or freeze in place. Knowing the screams that escaped her charge would draw attention, the cream female lifted her head towards the sky and called—I am with her, and I tend her; but I will need assistance and soon.
When her call died down, Dublin moved towards Pied's head and nosed against her cheek, exhaling warm breaths and soothing sounds. "Pied, Pied," she murmured, "I must reposition your shoulder. Are you ready?"
Edit on 02/21: I'm going to narrate a conclusion and archive this because it's an important thread. Emalee, if you ever want to dig it back up to finish it out more fully, just let me know and I'd love to do so!
Dublin didn't answer her, which of course led Pied to assume the worst. Before she could delve too far into her dismal thoughts, she felt a wrenching pain in her right hind leg. She jerked instinctively, whining and crying through clenched teeth but making a conscientious effort to hold still now. Dublin spoke again, coaxing Pied into a round of low whimpering. "I don't—Kisu?" she began to say when the would-be medic set the bone with a single, precise movement that sent knifelike pain shooting through the Delta's leg again and tore a sharp, keening note of agony from her throat.
"Stop," Pied begged with a gasp. "Please stop..." Much to her relief, Dublin stepped away and the Delta had a chance to gather her wits. Her paw throbbed and she whimpered—and occasionally cried out—in rhythm with the agonizing pulsation. She dreaded what came next, though she tried to tell herself it wouldn't hurt as much. First is the worst, second is the best, she thought dully, a nursery rhyme her father had taught her in her youth.
When Dublin returned after issuing a howl summoning help, Pied found the strength to shift her head to return the she-wolf's gaze. "Can you... make sure Kisu's coming?" she asked, then swallowed thickly and replied, "Yes," in a very dry, reluctant whisper. "Please... make it quick. Do it. Do it now." Somehow, she even managed to roll partially to make the task easier, though the pain became so great that she felt herself beginning to lose consciousness again.
Pied knew a split second of acute agony when Dublin put pressure on her shoulder, then her vision went black and she slumped onto the sand. Her mind simply couldn't cope with the excruciating pain, so it blinked off momentarily. She remained unconscious as the would-be medic quickly ascertained and dealt with her other injures, then summoned Kisu and dragged Pied's small, broken body to shelter.