Wolf RPG

Crowfeather was stiff as @Germanicus assisted his move to the healer @Aquene. He did not think that he wanted to be in Mereo any longer. The words he had shared with the silver eagle rang in his head, agonizing bells. The young man’s expression was glassy-eyed and far-away. One prison for another. The shadow was shamed to feel it, but he might have preferred Akashingo to the reality he faced in Mereo. At least on the mesa he had been shielded by his glimmer of hope. Ignorance had been a blissful thing. 

Once in the healing grounds, the dark figure slouched. Crowfeather did not want to look at Germanicus, but he could not stop from glancing fearfully at the older man. He could not understand how emotion made his body hurt in such a way. Even the tips of his toes felt as though they were burning, hotter than fire. What could Aquene do for that? What could aid that pain? Crowfeather did not think there was such a thing.

Her work never slowed. Even now, after Ruenna had successfully delivered children, Aquene moved towards the tablinum. The night had been long and filled with worry and fret despite the best attempts of her husband to calm her. She made her way after having been alerted by Kallik that Germanicus was going to need her expertise. She had thought it for the Matrona until she caught sight of the man lingering in her territory. She instantly knew something was amiss.
 
The way his leg laid was unnatural at best. He was starved and blood matted his fur near his ankle. There was a frown on her features. “Greetings. My name is Aquene. I am Mereo’s medicus.” She offered politely, a caring timbre to her voice as she always did. “My husband informed me that you needed my care. What has happened?” It was best to get the story first.

Hello, Aquene, his voice deadpanned from his mouth. The gold in his gaze turned upon her. She seemed fit and eager. Something in her eyes reminded him of Mothwing. He missed her. He wished things had not gone so terribly wrong. Only lately, Crowfeather wished that he had never run from his homeland. Things had only gotten harder. 

Germanicus brought me here to see you. My leg is- he looked to it with hatred burning behind his gaze. It was mangled beyond what it had been in Akashingo. He hated it. He hated that it had caused him to miss any chance he may have had with the silver eagle. I can see the bone. Crowfeather lifted his eyes from his leg and back to Aquene. His jaw tightened. 

Just take it off. It was only a burden. 

His voice was deadpanned and Aquene brushed off such a surly attitude for the pain he must be feeling. He spoke of his leg and he gave no description of how he had become so mangled, only stating he could see the bone. She was examining the leg to get her own prognosis of it when he asked her to take it off. Her eyes widened. “Amputation is an extreme action… and one I do not take lightly. It’s dangerous. There’s a chance you could merely bleed out and die.” It depended on how much one bled. She had done several before, of course, and he was in better paws with her than another she would reckon, but there were still risks for such a major procedure.
 
Still, nips as a reflective test told her that there was no saving it’s function… either way, the leg would be dead weight, which could contribute to hip issues later on… but there was no rhyme or reason to jump straight to taking the leg off… it seemed like an extreme measure. “I need you to know and understand the risks. You could die. If you don’t, you’ll have a lengthy recovery.” The blood loss alone would keep him in the tablinum for quite some time.

It was only a healer’s duty to tell someone of the dangers that came with their treatment. He could see her eyes scouring his limb. He could feel that she wasn’t pleased with the sight of it. At least it wasn’t attached to her. At least she didn’t have to carry around the reminder of it. Crowfeather felt weary and frustrated. He did not want to hear that he could die. He had already hoped for as much when he had ventured to the canyon the first time and had faced Nyra.

It doesn’t really matter…

Life or death, leg or no leg… Crowfeather knew that he would not be the same when he departed Mereo. His heart hung heavily with this knowledge.

The dark figure’s gaze turned to Aquene solemnly.

I know it’s your job to tell me, but I’ve seen healers work. I’ve learned the medicine leaves and the sleeping herbs. Then his eyes shifted back to the leg with a thin-lipped grimace. It won’t be saved. If you leave it and force me to sit through the healing of it, when I leave it will return to this- This bloody, well-worn mess. A glistening glimpse of his soul.

It did not matter? How could it not matter? She did not know for certain how she should respond to such a statement. “It does matter.” She stated again with a frown as more concerns approached her… concerns for his state of mind, if he could even safely leave the den without doing something harsh or stupid. He would not have his leg… that much was certain. He’d find some way to chop it off; they always did when they were determined. It was better that she do it so he had some sort of chance of survival, even if she did not know how it would turn out herself.
 
It could all get so complicated in the moment, and the bleeding was difficult to stop… there were too many cons to consider it unless it was the only option. Still, he spoke and she frowned, letting a sigh out of her maw. “And if I take it, and you die… what good will trying to take it at all have done?” She posed back, wanting one last time for him to confirm how determined he was to have an entire limb removed from his body. “It can cause pain… I’ve seen it, in soldiers… like the limb is still there, something in the brain convinces them that they can still feel the pain from it, pain they had felt before it was taken, before they lost the ability to feel it.” Phantom limbs lurking in the shadows. She did not wish that fate on him either.

All of the woman’s concerns were valid. They might even have been something he would have urged to another, if he was not the one carrying the weight of it. Crowfeather was so tired of talking about it. He hated the pain, hated dragging the leg around, like it was a constant reminder of the poor decisions he had made. 

The healing wolf tried to make sure he understood. Crowfeather regarded her with painfilled eyes. 

You don’t get it. I’m not afraid of some… stupid ghost pain. I’m not afraid of dying. This was not true. The dark wolf did not know what awaited him on the other side of that journey. If you take it and I do not survive, then all of the pain will be gone. And if I do survive- Crowfeather felt his stomach lurch. His eyes shifted away again. The shadow was crestfallen. Then, at least I won’t carry this dead leg around as punishment. 

The dark figure stiffened. His jaw clenched. 

Take it off.

He insisted she did not understand, except there was a part of her deep down that did. Often now, despite the short time that had passed between now and then, it felt like a distant memory from a past life. “I do get it… but I also know that it gets better and suddenly those consequences sound pretty fucking awful.” It was not often such language slipped out of her. Perhaps she could blame the pregnancy for it, the hormone fluctuation in her body that every wolf could associate with mood swings… He viewed the leg as a punishment and she sighed.
 
“I will take the leg. However should you survive and come to regret your decision, do not hold any ill will towards me.” She had offered him warning, and more than one attempt to hold back before she moved to the etches in the tablinum, selecting a few herbs that when mixed might allow him to sleep through the procedure. It would be easier for her if he weren’t thrashing about, even if he could not feel the leg, she could not speak for what his psyche might do.
 
“Eat these. They will allow you to sleep through the procedure.” It offered one more chance. If he chose to not take them, then she would not remove the limb, but the moment he did, it was gone… for better or for worse.

Maybe it’s gotten better for you… but we are not the same. I wasn’t promised anything. Certainly not to get better. Most of his life had been one unfortunate accident that lead to another. Even when he believed it would get better, those hopes had been crushed. Germanicus’ words hung in his head like omens. Anger filled his weary limbs and added to his impulsivity. 

But the healer conceded. She agreed to take it off of him. 

Crowfeather did not hesitate to lick down the herbs she offered. In a short time, he imagined they would make his head feel heavy and tired. The shadow glanced to where they were, herb on his tongue. He shifted before fixing his eyes curiously on the medicine wolf across from him. The work space where she made her healing was not like anything he’d seen before. Nothing like the cozy healing dens of his home. 

Here? You’ll do it here? His voice cracked.

The pessimism was met with a lack of willingness to further convince the man of the mistake he was about to make. It was true nothing was assured in life, but that also meant that nothing was assured to get better either. Instead, it was easier to concede than continue to fight. Perhaps if he were a citizen of Mereo she might have called the Imperator to talk some sense into him, or the Matrona… but he was not and they held no jurisdiction or power over him either.
 
He took the medicine, the question falling as she huffed softly and frowned. “Yes… why, is something the matter with my work space?” She questioned, the man entirely too picky when it came to just how the trained medicus was to remove the limb she was not certain she should remove. It was nicer than the set up at home, and she found it roomy and homey, even if the soldiers surrounding her did not necessarily agree. It was a comfortable space for her to work in, and she was not willing to modify the space, especially not while growing children inside of her.

N-No… there’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve just- just never seen a place like it for healing. 

Crowfeather believed that his request had made the healing woman colder. He had not meant to upset her, but he didn’t need some uplifting comments that would only last as long as she could whisper them. The truth was that he did not know the healer Aquene. It was a large ask that he had convinced her of. They were only strangers, after all. 

Just tell me what you need me to do… before the herbs take my head. If she only wanted him to lay where he was, he could. If she needed him to move, he would follow her order.

He was stuttering out an apology, and she simply hummed. It was hard to keep the beside manner she usually procured for those around her with all of his questions and the difficulty of the task he had requested to begin with. When all was said and done, she knew she would be speaking of this and the trials it brought with her husband that night.
 
He asked for direction and she nosed towards the back of the den, near the small pool of water. “It will be easiest if you are laying back there. Spirits willing, you’ll awaken, but you won’t be able to move for a little bit while the site heals… it will be easier to hydrated you, just as it will be easier to clean the wound to ensure bleeding stops while I am performing the procedure.” She explained as she shifted to where they might work.

 

The woman pointed to the back of the den site where there was fresh water and safety from the elements. As he eyed the spot, he could not stop himself from feeling that he had made a terrible mistake. Germanicus should have remained the way he was in Crowfeather’s mind. The shadow had gotten no closure, no comfort for the promises that had been offered and discarded. 

Alright. Thanks. 

The shadow was curt with his tone and he did not meet the woman’s gaze. She was busy, after all. Crowfeather rose from his place and limped pathetically to where she had suggested. There, he waited for her to begin the work and for the herbs to pull him from his thoughts and carry him to darkness.