Wolf RPG

Full Version: Island of memories we'll leave them where they lie
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Bearing gifts of marigold and willow (knowledge courtesy of the bird), Gannet made his way to check on @Sionnach. He knew she was both inflamed and uncomfortable, so he'd been doing what he could to keep the quill marks soothed. Hopefully the swelling would start going down soon, if it hadn't already that is.

How is it? he asked as he poked his nose in, cocking his head sideways and searching for the golden-faced pup. He'd know soon enough, but looking didn't tell him how she felt. If the pain was worse, he wanted to know, because it meant that there was perhaps more to be done.
most of the insult to sionnach's pride had worn off, but that was also because she didn't have a mirror -- she had no idea how disfigured she looked, like some numpty troll doll boiled and then chucked in a microwave. for the most part, she was quiet as she skulked around the den. her siblings were out being watched by a parent, and ever since her own escape-fiasco, the den had turned into fort alcatraz with double-guard duty.

like any child she was fine alone, but when an adult came she had to show them how miserable she was. as she heard gannet's steps come through the threshold, sionnach rolled onto her belly and placed a limp paw over her face, a keening wail of very-well-fabricated misery escaping her tiny frame. obviously, this poor girl was in so much pain, the poor angelic thing.
Mmmm, unfortunately for the girl, wails only moved Gannet so far. He felt for her because her face did look terrible, but there was not a lot he could do outside what he was already doing.

I brought more, he said, indicating the plants. The aloe would help soothe (a helpful tip from a rabbit he'd caught and spared, though the poor thing had been terrified. He wouldn't tell Ashlar of that one; he'd regretted it after.) There were other plants too, meant to fight infection.

This should help. He stepped closer and waited, to be sure she had no big reservations against his applying some of the paste to the quill stings.
well, that didn't have the intended effect. gannet remained unmoved, sparing the girl only a glance as he looked over her lumpy face. how could he not care she was in ASTOUNDING PAIN! sionnach huffed, indignant he was above manipulation. he would have to go in her "not-fun" adult book, a list of adults that which regretably, was growing bigger and bigger by the day.

she deigned to allow him time to inspect her though; he was at least paying attention to her, and that was a plus in sionnach's book. she lifted her head demurely, and turned it to the side, so that gannet could inspect his handiwork and even apply some paste judiciously -- but if he tried to pin her down, he would find she still had some fight in her.
Gannet smiled as she showed the injuries, as they looked dreadful, but better also. There were no alarming signs of sickness or turning in the wounds. So long as she cooperated, he applied what he needed, then sat down.

Your first fight? he asked, still smiling. He assumed so, as siblings did not count. He did not remember his, but he did remember the early ones... perhaps the first big one was the loner he and Whip had chased from the borders. Being injured was not a good feeling, but surviving a fight was.
once the paste was applied (to no shortage of winces, mind you -- sionnach had to inform everyone in the room she was long-suffering and brave for withstanding such awful, stingy poultices) sionnach stepped back, her tail held at a slow wag. despite gannet being involved in the single most traumatic event of her life, sionnach did not look upon him unfavorably: he had treated her quite gently, and even encouraged her where she felt her bravery wavering. sionnach was perhaps fond of him, though she would never admit she liked any adult to anyone who dared ask.

her brush with the porcupine could have hardly been called a fight, but sionnach puffed up importantly, already having her own interpetation of what truly had happened. of course, she had been a victim -- a victim of cruel circumstance and a rather alarmingly fast tail. "hmmhmm," the girl nodded solemnly, attempting to convey that she was not daunted from her obvious near scrape with terminal ugliness.
Gannet knew enough of pups to know that events like these were important milestones and challenges. Treating it with respect was key; if he belittled it, she might not recognize the learning or resent it. Besides, it made him feel good to make them feel important.

It was well done. Did you learn anything? he asked, tilting his head curiously. His demeanor was a lot like a friend asking another advice.... there was no teaching tone to his voice.
time would eventually smooth out the roughness of sionnach's trauma when it came to memory; for now, the incident was still sharp on her mind... but eventually, it would be layered and laid with other memories, and rarely retrieved.

under gannet's apprising gaze, sionnach stood up primly. what had she learned? her head cocked to the side, and an ear flopped against her cheeks as she pursed her lips. "ya," the girl nodded enthusedly, eager to share her very hard-fought lesson: (i fought so hard to have her say "im still prettier than aengus" but god shes not old enough to be witty yet big sad) "'e not friend." the girl slumped disappointedly; she still did not grasp why the porcupine had been so defensive.. all she had wanted to do was play!
It was probably okay the girl was too young to be witty... jokes tended to be lost on poor Gannet anyway. Guess not, he replied, frowning as well at her disappointment. It was a hard lesson learned in an even harder way.

Nonwolves can be friends, but sometimes they get scared. Then they can hurt. He began conversationally, thinking on the few positive encounters he had had recently. It's good not to get too close. Not unless you were hunting, but that was different.
gannet's sage advice, however timely, mostly went over sionnach's head. his little droplets of wisdom curled away, much like water on the feather of a duck. she looked upon him blinking, for this talk of friends and non-wolves had her confused. didn't everyone  want to be her friend?

unfortunately, the young frostfur had yet to learn this was not the sionnach show, featuring the dimple-faced, lovable scamp sionnach. not everyone loved her the way she believed she ought to be loved, porky-pig included. sticking her tongue out resolutely, sionnach blew raspberries. "e was scared?" this newfound realization caused the tiny terror's chest to puff: she may have gotten hurt, but she had clearly intimidated that no-good scoundrel in the process. WIN!
going to wrap this since I need to remove him for a bit
Very, gannet answered solemnly, but then smiled. Scaring is sometimes good, since it means they won't attack. But you have to stay back. He got up and took a few steps back. Show me. He wanted to see how she would try to scare him, if she was faced with another she wanted to chase away.

Over the next bit he would talk and teach a bit before leaving with the promise to return. She would need more attention before her face was completely healed, but soon she'd be back to normal and causing havoc as usual.