Ah, so the Overseer was gone. Murdered by the man she had thought she could poison and replaced with a man that followed the brindle beast and not her, what interesting plays seemed to happen in the canyon of red. The curtain had dropped, the stage stained with the blood of Nemisis, and now the stage hands were to fix up the lead in their show. A smile seemed to play on the ivory dove, her paws dipped in darkness, her side painted crimson from brushing against the beast of the show. She murmured under her breath a few words of latin that could bind the blood to her, telling the spirits beyond that she was the next owner of the bone under the decapitated head of the former alpha female was now hers.
She had told her lord that she was going to get what was needed for his wounds, that she could meet him outside his living corridors when she was done. And gather she did, a few herbs wrapped in a leaf as well as cobwebs to seal the wound. Her tail swayed as she hummed a soft turn, something she would always use to sooth those she worked on. This song kept up as she walked back to his side, a few drops of blood dripped from her lips as she retrieved the things she needed from the place Nemisis was taken down.
With a tilt of her head she questioned him, wondering if it was alright for her to begin now.
The bloodied male who was previously full of adrenaline pumping through his blood, is now feeling the pain in full. The dull ache is now a searing hot pain striking like lightening throughout his shoulder and his face is pleasantly numb. Feeling is slowly trickling back into it and he’s wrinkling up his maw at the feeling.
Finally they've made it to his den. The horrid climb up to the hole in the red canyon wall. He’s limping in earnest now and — god — does it fucking hurt. He’s sitting down as fast as he’s able to. His haunches meeting the ground and he’s instantly taking pressure off his front, right leg. He waits.
Thankfully he doesn’t wait too long. The bloodied shewolf is padding up to him and he answers with a single nod of his head. Begin.
The first thing she does is lick the wound that the murdered demon left on his shoulder, her tongue probing to make sure no rocks or any other object found themselves into the gash. Her muzzle now coated red moved to the herbal remedies she brought with her, nosing a few leaves over to his paws as an instruction before speaking her thoughts allowed. "My lord, please eat these for pain.There is a leaf of mint mixed in to help with the taste." Her words soft and gentle as she moved to the other things she brought, Goldenrod, calendula, and a few others.
SHe went to work as she chewed up a few of the flowers and leaves to place them in the wound, pressing as hard as she dared to get the mixed within his wound. Before coninuing she looked over to his face, her head tilting in a familiar question. "Are you okay Kitten?"
Donovan winces as her first move is to luck the wound. Though her tongue is gentle, it still hurts like a motherfucker. Sucking in a short hiss of breath he flicks his eyes over to the snowy wolf as she continues her administrations.
When she pulls back from his shoulder her muzzle is red with his own blood, something interesting to see at the moment. She’s stuffi bf some more herbs into his maw now, the minty taste only doing enough to hide the nastiness behind it. He doesn’t care, he just wants her to fix him. Yet, her soft, enticing voice almost spoils him when she informs him of the mint. He swallows it down no problem.
Then as if it couldn’t get better, she’s grabbing more and stuffing it into his wounds. All the wile his chin is tucked and he watches her with an obsessive interest. Her voice breaks him out of his trance once more. Her nickname almost making him smirk.
Well it does a little bit. A small tilting of his lips upwards is all he expressed back. “Yeah, as long as I don’t die I consider that okay.”
A few more to the wound and it is now a coated mess but she brought something to seal her creation, as if she were sewing up Frankenstein's monster! He does not complain much as she is happy that he is a good littleBIG patient, thanking his medicine as he is told and knowing her to press and pride without too much of a complaint.
Good boy.
"Oh Kitten, she could not kill you and if she did.. well let's just say I would not let you stay dead for long." She smiled before pressing the cobwebs to seal her works, grabbing more from her collection as she trailed from his neck and down his shoulder. Next was the leaves to make everything stay in place even as he moved, ah, was she done? Hmmmm...
She’s adding all sorts of things he only knows a little about to his wound. He’s no medic, but he does remember his mother teaching him a thing or two long, long ago.
His smirk becomes wider at her words, almost malicious like it was only moments after he killed Nemisis. Though it is ripe with lust almost. The words Dove speaks, along with her alluring voice, has him interested. He even leans his head closer to her, glowing yellow orbs dancing in the moonlight. “I’d almost be disappointed if you let me die, beautiful.”
The sticky consistancy of cobwebs coated not just his wound but her own blood soaked toes, getting the leave to stay on him and not keep contact with her was a rather interesting position. She had to use her nose and neck to get these tricky greens to figure.out that the brindle man was their new home, not her stained paws. So it was a game of pick up and nose press, pick up and nose or neck press. It had to look comical!
"Kitten, you are lucky you have me. Death cannot touch you, well, unless you are beheaded but then you would have to be stuck with talking to only me and bound as a spirit." she purred in a way to show him that this would be a pleasant fate, her dual hued eyes flashing in the low light. In truth is was a cruel fate to never walk in peace but attached to a divine witch.
The process she goes through, he’s not all too familiar with it. For he’s not the best healer he knows. His mother taught him the very basics and he forgot most of it. Though he does find it interesting. Hues dancing along her smooth facial features, a sickly blue of the moonlight and the dark crimson of the blood contrasting perfectly. Then as if the moment couldn’t get better, she speaks. Her velvety once drifts into his auds and he points them towards her. Her words Hold a promise, one he likes. Both options sounds good to him.
Yet even as her oddly colored gaze meets his own, he cannot look away. His smile grows and his own lids are half mast. “I don’t think I’d mind that too much, Dove.” He hums, voice deep, rumbling.
He had actually called her by her name, not a pet name like he did with everyone that he seemed to meet. How strange that this caused her cheeks to darken with a blush, now was not the time to be so flattered. After all he just said her name, stupid girl, he was a flirt and not picky about his bedmates and yet her traitorous tail seemed to give a few swishes along her back to show him she was pleased.
"It might be, I can be a demanding master" She smiled in a way that could mean both cruelty and anythng of a sexual nature, her dual colored eyes shining as she finally sat her rump against the ground. Her work finally complete.
Kynareth’s ever watching gaze flicks over the soft features of her face and notices that he made the right move calling her by her name. Her reply is smooth like butter and Donovan finds himself chuckling despite the pain it causes.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He comments standing with a grunt. He looks to her. “Although I love playing around, I’m feeling a bit weak at the moment.” His wounds and the blood loss are making his head lighter and lighter. “I need to lay down, dear. Or I’ll pass out and you’ll have to drag me in there.” He jests throwing his muzzle towards his den just beside them.
He chuckled and she saw the pain it caused him, this displeased her but that was a reaction she could easily not show. Unlike a blush that formed along the bridge of her muzzle, how silly. He spoke at how her demanding behavior would not be a problem and in fact he like it that way. She chuckled then, shaking her blood touched skull before standing up.
"Let's get you to bed," she spoke softly before moving ahead of him. She looked over her shoulder to let him know he needed to follow, what else would make him follow quicker but a tail to chase? She knew this was a safe play because for the next few days his activity would be limited but their jests would be just as playful. "Come on, I dont want to have to drag your ass in here."
Kynareth’s laughing along with her and quickly following her towards the den. Offering a head bow of thanks he’s flopping himself down onto the floor of his den to sleep the rest of the night away — or not, what ever happens first. He murmurs a sweet thanks to the woman responsible for putting him back together and once his head hits the floor it would seem that he died but truly he just sleeping, he’s fiiiineee.
