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Full Version: Failures are inevitable [M]
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Time - around 6 am | Weather - overcast | Notes; Anyone needing a medic trade thread, you're welcome to hop in! I rolled for the outcome of his injury and hunt. Moderate injury, not severe. I changed to a Fox instead of a Opossum because those things are dumb and play dead. Apologies for the lenght.

The sun peaked out from under the horizon and a wolf was there to welcome it, Rye sat beside a tree and watched as the sun rose into the sky in an astonishing array of colors. Once the sun was halfway above the horizon, Rye set out to the neighboring forest to scare some hare out of their burrow or maybe catch a marten or two lurking in bushes and shrubs. As he jogged to the woods Lane surfaced in his mind and encompassed his thoughts. Their tender embrace had yet to leave his mind, instead stubbornly hanging around like a fruit fly living off week old dry fruit. Where was she now? He wondered, more worried about her than he ought to be. Then there was Tzila. He was curious to know where she was as well, they hadn't talked since their fling and Rye was starting to think she was upset with him. A problem for another time he told himself. With two females pregnant, came with it far more lives to care for and feed and less bodies to hunt. Rye was glad there was an abundance of medics around, including an aspiring medic/midwife such as himself. Although that didn't leave many capable of hunting and left one or two busy tending to expecting mothers. Rye guessed he, Imaq, and maybe Wintersbane would have to pick up the slack. The Hotah male knew the sooner he got to stockpiling all the furs, left over meats and herbs he could find the better it would be for everyone.
Too deep in thought Rye didn't notice he had already crossed into the forest, what woke him from his trance was the scent of a fox. It stopped him in his tracks, his body instinctively lowering as he searched the forest. A small orange fox walked its way into the mans view, the fox's nose twitching as it scavenged for scraps of anything edible. Rye didn't waste any time, his front paws moved tenderly with every footfall and his hind feet stepped in the same spot as the front. To say his stealth was lacking in finesse wouldn't do it justice, so of course he stepped on the only crunchy leaf in the entire damn forest and of course the fox scurried away as fast as its legs could carry it. Rye was quick to give chase, dodging and weaving through the trees, jumping over their roots and, maneuvering around bushes. He was close but the rush of endorphins was waning, he started to feel the burning in his lungs and the ache in his legs. He kept going, inching closer by the second but then in a flash it was gone. The foxes body far more agile than his due to its small size, it darted in another direction entirely but not without cause (other than fleeing). A steep dip in the forest floor was feet away and through the decades of erosion, the walls of the dip were peppered with rocks. Sharp, Obsidian rock.
"Oh shit!" Rye screamed as he tried desperately to keep from sliding down the short dip but his weight combined with his speed coupled together into a deadly slide and by the end something stung. The pain burned white hot as Rye laid at the bottom. Terror gripped him like a vise, he didn't know how bad it was, he didn't want to know how bad it was but he could feel the blood pooling below him. Sickeningly warm, it prompted Rye to move out of the dip but as he tried a searing pain ripped down his right side. He laid against the side of the small pit and looked at his flank as best he could. Fur, blood, and skin caked the long cut and the blood thickly coated his fur directly below the wound. Panic engulfed him as he saw it stretch from his shoulder and curve up to his back, it was long, jagged, and unsightly. Rye tried to get out again but the pain was near unbearable, for the moment all he could do was lay there and bleed.
If one were to ask if Tzila was upset with Rye over their impassioned night, she would have asked in turn, 'Are you crazy? Of course not.' While un-expected, she could truthfully say that she had enjoyed the time they spent together nearly two weeks ago. In fact, the ruddy draped woman rather liked the earthen male. He was good company. Honest and sincere. Passionate and driving. That phrase he had uttered to her, words of faith passed on from another, still rung clear in her head. With a slight smile, she huffed pleasantly. His optimistic outlook was almost infectious. 

She had been meaning to catch up with him. To get a few minutes alone, to discuss some things. She found that she had gotten a little too caught up in staying busy, in monitoring the on goings within the pack. Her brows pinched. She really should set aside some time for more personal, one on one visits with everyone. Her train of thought was broken by the clattering of rocks and a shout. Her ears pricked up in alarm. That was Rye's voice. Coming from the forest, where the terrain was composed of treacherous stone, sloping downward. A disaster waiting to happen for those that weren't sure of foot.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she whirled, hurtling through the forest. Under her breath she released panicked swears. Rye was down there, hurt! The father of some of the children growing inside her. She couldn't risk losing him now. Duskfire Glacier couldn't afford losing him. The blood in the air further tightened the knot in her stomach. He was injured. Arriving short of the downgrade of the earth from which he had tumbled, Tzila's dark head peeked over the edge, silver eyes wide with alarm. "Rye! Shit. Damnit, hold on!" He was on his side, conscious but not able to stand. 

Before she would risk herself and inspect the damage, she took control. @Lane and @Iana, the packs medics, came to her thoughts instantly. @Wintersbane as well. The two females were slight of build and they would need a sturdier figure to assist in supporting Rye's weight. She threw back her head and released a bellowing howl of urgency. While no skilled medic, Tzila did know some basics. She was a hardened, self-taught survivalist, after all. Hastily, she grabbed a nearby clump of moss - an easily accessible tool used to hold off bleeding - and clambered down the rocks as quickly as she could, without cutting a paw open. Silently, she thanked herself that she was still so early into her pregnancy, keeping her figure on the trimmer side. Kneeling beside him, she deposited the moss, but did not apply it. His injury could just be a flesh wound. Or muscle could be involved, or worse, organs damaged. He may even have some broken ribs. This, was beyond her area of expertise. "Hold tight. Focus. Breathe, Rye. Help is coming." She urged, pressing in to nudge his cheek, consoling.
Edited with a correction. Message me if any more edits are needed! :) 

Although Lane hadn't heard Rye's initial shout, she alerted immediately to Tzila's urgent summons. It took her a moment to recover from standing up so quickly, and she stumbled, trying to locate her emergency medkit while the earth spun around her. The medkit was already packed with any supplies she might require for wound care, but Lane had not forgotten that Tzila was expecting. What if the emergency had something to do with the pregnancy? There wasn't much that could be done for those sorts of problems, but Lane grabbed a few raspberry leaves just in case. If it was only some minor bleeding, the leaves would staunch the flow and likely ease the expecting mother's nerves. 

Her wave of dizziness passed, and she made her way quickly to the source of the call. She was still feeling lightheaded, probably because she hadn't eaten in.. a day? Two days? It was whenever Wintersbane had left that rabbit outside her makeshift den, she knew that much.

Lane halted as she approached the precipice. At first she was confused. This was the source of the call, and also where Tzila's scent was concentrated, but there was no one to be found. Then she heard a hushed, urgent voice, which drew her to over to the edge. Lane's gaze fell on Rye's limp body, attended by a very worried Tzila, and it was immediately apparent what had happened. 

A strangled, involuntary noise escaped from Lane, but it was partially muffled by the medkit in her jaws. Seeing him lying motionless and bleeding triggered a rupture of emotion. Rye, stong, steady, kindhearted Rye. A judgeless confidante. Her rock in a literal storm. He had responded to Lane's situation with empathy, embracing her with steady compassion and unequivocal acceptance. Unbidden tears welled at the corners of Lane's eyes. 

Lane's gaze darted across the rocky decline, searching for a path down, and another dizzy spell hit her. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through her dizziness. When she opened her eyes, it was only to locate the first step-- the one immediately before her. Keeping her eyes trained on her own feet, and she was able to pick her way down to bottom. She rushed to Tzila's side. She saw some moss deposited nearby-- was that incredibly lucky, or had Tzila collected it?-- and after a cursory glance over Rye's wound, she dropped her medkit to speak. 

"I'm here, Rye--" speaking his name triggered another wave of emotion. Swallowing down her anxiety, Lane continued, "You're going to be okay." Turning to Tzila, she spoke again in a low voice, "We'll need to staunch the bleeding-- could you apply that with pressure?" She gestured toward the moss. She would show Tzila how to apply the correct pressure if need be. If Tzila could help her by keeping pressure on the wound, then Lane would be able to step away to chew up a quick poultice.
Though she hadn't been specifically called for, to hear an emergency cry for help ring out over the Glacier sent the medicine woman deeper into the Caverns (where she'd been tending some herbs that grew within) to the apothecary den where she and Iana -- and now, possibly Rye and Lane -- had taken to storing a communal stock of medicines. Much as Lane had faltered, wondering what to grab and take with her, the golden she-dog swayed on her feathered paws as she examined the pharmacopeia they'd arranged since claiming the territory. An anxious whine escaped her before the shaman simply snatched up a rabbit hide with a few basic healer's herbs in them, whirling as she rushed to answer Tzila's howl with the bundle clasped in her jaws.

She wasn't sure what to expect upon arriving but the sight of a bloody Rye collapsed in the bottom of the shallow pit with the fretful she-wolves descending to work on the hawk-eyed male's injuries made the cur's heart leap into her throat -- nearly making her drop the pelt-wrapped herbs in her shock. Something stung at her throat and the backs of her aquamarine optics -- fear or concern for the kind he-wolf who had become her friend -- but she blinked it away in an effort to remain calm.

Figuring she would only overcrowd the others in the hole, Imaq remained where she was on the lip of the opening -- placing the medicines at her paws before shifting on them in nervous agitation. "What Lane need? How Imaq can help Rye?" She asked of the other Caregiver -- albeit softly, not wanting to draw the pale agouti's attention away from her patient. 
My post got deleted in its entirety, all 1000 or so words from just pressing backspace. As a result this is a little rushed and garbage. Lmk if I need to change something.

Important edit; I accidentally gave an exact number of pups, which Rye wouldn't know, that was just my brain being a dumby dumb!! But I fixed it, so crisis averted

Rye laid against the the wall of rock and dirt, his breathing steady but shaky as he tried to settle his fears and regain composure. The task at hand was strenuous, as his lungs fill with air they stretched the surrounding flesh and sent wave after wave of pain shooting through his side. Capturing his composure was no easy task either, the worst of his fears hammered his brain and quickened his breathing. It led to a vicious cycle of pain and more fear. Rye needed to look again, settle the chaos with firm answers. Despite the blaring alarms in his head that said not to look, the male looked again. His head moving to give his right eye the best view it could manage without disrupting the wound more. Alas, his movements aggravated the long cut and sent sparks of pain ripping through his flank but the view earned was enough to see the damage in greater detail. The cut in his shoulder appeared deeper than the remaining laceration and if Rye did have a better view he would be able to see the cut did not penetrate through to muscle. It wasn't as bad as it felt but his shoulder still bled and he still needed to climb out of the pit without causing himself further injury; but the pain, it was excruciating. Rye rested his head back onto the wall, tawny eyes sealed behind clenched lids. Whispered curses flowed from his lips, he felt foolish for letting a fox get the better of him. What would the others think of him? Rye couldn't let anyone see him but he had to get out quick, no matter the pain it caused him. He was ready, but then he heard something. Footsteps, and fast in pace. Was the fox coming back to rub Ryes failures in his own face?
No, it was worse. His pregnant packmate, Tzila popped her head over the edge with wide eyes and full of panic. Rye shared the look on her face and as she lifted her head to call for others it changed from panicked, to horrified. The color drained from his face and all he could do was stare into the distance, thinking about how much of an idiot he was. Then Tzila deposited the moss and Rye quickly recoiled away from her, other sharp rocks stabbing into his back but not puncturing it, and again he recoiled back to her. Meeting her soft nudge half way. If the pain from the moss deposit had not already consumed him, Rye would be quite grateful to be consoled and would offer his own nudge in return. Then suddenly another head popped over the edge, it was Lane who was quickly followed up by Imaq, they both hopped into the sharp pit. Three females, two pregnant, all trying to tend to his wounds even though Rye knew he didn't deserve it in the slightest.
"No, don't touch me Tzila. You neither Lane. Imaq that includes you too." Rye scooted back as far and as best he could with one good remaining shoulder, "You both," His eyes darted between Lane and Tzila while speaking, leaving poor Imaq to be excluded from his outburst. "Should NOT be down here and you both know damn well why you shouldn't! I will not let either of you touch me until you get out of this stupid pit!" Although Rye was angry, he wasn't mad at them for trying to help but rather the fact they would risk themselves and pups for him. He didn't see all the lives in the pit as something worth risking to help one life, didn't matter they were only a few weeks into pregnancy, Rye wasn't going to let it slide. 
Posting here again. @Iana & Wintersbane, feel free to hop in when you like! <3

To her great relief, the tawny wolf Lane arrived seconds after her call. Followed shortly by Imaq, who though not summoned, was greatly appreciated for her timely appearance. With Lane by her side in no time, Tzila swiveled an ear, nodding. Yes, she at the very least could apply pressure to the wound to keep the bleeding at bay.

But Rye, as his body language and short words suggested, had other ideas. He chided them, all three of them, for acting without thinking in coming to his aid. The dark woman stood silent, making no further move to reach for him. Her chiseled face was unreadable while she absorbed his words and his anger. He was justified in feeling as he did. In front of him in this pit were two females carrying delicate new life. The future of Duskfire Glacier. But she had her own reasons and her own point to prove. As she suspected as did Lane, whom she shared a quick, knowing glance with.

Squaring her shoulders and straightening her posture, Tzila gathered herself, letting her tail rise above her hips in a pointed display of dominance. Her expression hardened slightly, but did not quite border on harsh. Nor did her lips crinkle or her ears flatten. She stood her ground. "I understand why you are upset." She began cooly. "But consider it fortunate that Lane and I are still early in our terms. Not bloated and not nearly as mobile. We are not quite that delicate yet." She stared down at him. "What would have happened if no one had heard you? If I hadn't been nearby? You could have been stranded here for days. I will not sit idly by, pregnant or not and let one of my pack mates suffer." She stated firmly.
An urgent, inquiring voice drifted to Lane's ears from the precipice above. Imaq

"A poultice for bleeding," Lane called to her, "Horsetail and marigold, if you have those with you. If you don't, I ha--" 

Lane didn't get a chance to finish her thought; her attention snapped back to Rye as he began scolding them. Lane flattened her ears, feeling a bit guilty. He wasn't entirely wrong. With her unpredictable waves of dizziness, Lane probably shouldn't have climbed down the edge of the pit. She normally wouldn't have attempted it, but something about seeing Rye down here bleeding had driven her to attempt the risky climb. 

Even so, the damage was done. Apart from Imaq, they were all now in the pit, and refusing treatment at this point was doing little-to-nothing to protect the pregnant Duskfire women. On some rational level, Rye must know that. 

Tzila glanced at her knowingly, and Lane mouthed the word "concussion" to her. Noncompliance and agitation were red flags for concussion, and Rye's reasoning seemed to be somewhat lacking to boot. Tzila appealed to Rye with fair, logical points, but Lane wasn't convinced that Rye would be able to hear her logic, particularly if he was concussed. 

"Just tell us what to do, Rye. If you want us all to climb out together, we're right behind you." Lane attempted to share another meaningful look with Tzila, equal parts gratitude and concern. She appreciated the guardian coming to her defense-- she was certainly right, Lane was not that delicate yet!-- but the fact remained that Rye needed medical attention, and he needed it fast. Arguing with him was just going to delay his treatment even longer, and every second they wasted meant more lost blood.
For a moment, Imaq's face is alight with attentiveness -- lips lightly parted as she nods with Lane's words, reaching for the rabbit hide to paw it open and search through its contents. Only to pause, pale paw stilled midair as the angry outburst flew from Rye's lips. Despite the fact that she was Gamma of the Glacier, the she-dog flinched back at the earthen guardian's refusal -- lowering her underbelly to the ground where she crouched at the edge of the pit and placing her head on her paws with a hushed noise of agitation as the three broke into argument.

Her head lifted only when Tzila spoke up, nodding along in agreement. It was true that the two expecting she-wolves could have been more careful but that seemed beside the point now. They were already in the shallow ravine and Imaq was neither pregnant, nor had she ventured down into the crowded hollow -- which meant he had no reason to refuse Imaq's care specifically. 

Figuring that Lane would still need medicine for the he-wolf's injuries, the gilded merle turned her attention back to the bundle she'd brought with her. Avoiding Rye's irritation, or trying to anyways, she began to search through the recently dried herbs for something that might work -- given that she seemed to be lacking in marigold and horsetail, something she cursed silently. 

She set aside a bunch of colorful yellow goldenrod and a similar pawful of fluffy tansy flowers, nudging the two herbs into neat piles beside a wad of sticky cobweb bandages as she waited for Rye to accept Tzila and Lane's assistance in climbing out of the ditch -- mouthing a silent prayer to the spirits that he would just let them help.
It did not matter, they were pregnant and in the pit of sharp rocks, there would be no arguing with him. His tawny eyes flickered between the trio, but mainly the pregnant pair while his brain worked a way out of his situation. None of it would be painless, nor dignified but it would have to do. His plan was to, no holds barred, climb out using all his strength, then mosey on out of there. Rye knew he could do it but not if he should do it, no, none of that mattered when his pride was on the line. While Lane and Tzila talked to him, Rye was silently planning his escape route from the pit (and them), only catching the ends of their respective words. "I am a being!" He snapped. 'What?' , he thought, visibly confused by his own words. "I mean, I am fine. I don't need help and I don't need any of you." With that said, Rye scrambled his way up and over the lip of the little ravine. A series of grunts and growls poured from his throat, guttural and as course as sand, it was clear the pain was overtaking all his senses. Once his feet found him, his head began to feel flooded and heavy, almost as if he could feel the liquid in his brain slosh around. He remained still, his head physically wobbling to counter each wave of dizziness and blurry vison that struck him all at once. The pictures refused to line up and his frequent blinking didn't help either, Rye was starting to believe trees and grass always looked doubled up. He stopped trying to correct his vison and started walking instead. Whoever, if anyone, was talking would be ignored. The ringing in his ears would drown them out anyhow. His walking looked like that of a new borns first steps, sloppy, uncoordinated and hasty. Each foot did not land where they naturally should have landed, instead they overlapped or went awkwardly off to the side. Internally Rye was dumbfounded, not a clue why walking hurt and why it was difficult. Something was wrong, he felt scared, lost and shaky. There was a nonverbal voice telling him to seek help, it was relentless and difficult to ignore but Rye tried anyway. He began to walk faster, away from them. 'Who?'. Far away, anywhere but near them. 'Why running?', he asked himself. Rye was going to look behind him but a volatile wave of nausea had him losing his lunch, nothing but foam came up however. Just like that he fell down onto his belly, the context of everything that had transpired faded in and out of his brain. All he could do was lay there in shame and utter embarrassment, with few clues as to why.          
She had felt that with both Lane and Imaq here to help, that they would be able to treat Rye and get him out of the pit. Turns out that wasn't the case at all. She nodded once at Lanes mouthing of the concussion he had suffered. She had seen symptoms of them before, especially back in her days with the Nightwalkers, where fighting was common.

Rye was proving to be a classic concussion patient. Unable to listen to reason, stubborn and delusional. He insisted on putting up a fight. Knowing that there was little they could do to help him in this state of mind, she sighed frustration, shaking her head. She moved aside, seeing if at the very least, if it was possible at all to clear a safe path for him to climb up on.

He beat her to it, clambering up the slope and out of the pit on his own. She worried he would exacerbate his wounds in the process. Hurriedly she followed up after him, watching him like a hawk. He wobbled and stumbled drunkenly. Without realizing it, she broke out into a brisk trot, to hurry up to his side to try and support him. But she had reached him too late, as he collapsed. If Lane and Imaq weren't already right by her side, she ushered them close with concerned whines. "We need to get him out of the open. He...he'll bounce back from this, right?"