Wolf RPG

Reyson left behind him the large wide canyon of Mereo. He headed towards the lake of arrows. Though he approached it from the lower side. His face was on fire, and his shoulders burned where the lynx had laid him open. Aquene had tended him as best she could, but her thoughts and medicines were upon Towhee, and he didn't blame her that.

As far as he was concerned Towhee deserved all the help. There was no where he intended ot go really. He just needed away from the suffocating corners of the red sands. Eyes on the horizon. He would need to see Aquene again soon. And he briefly thought, he was close enough he could apologize to @Meadow as well, besides it was only fair that he seek her out. He had mislead her, accidently, but he had done so all the same, and he wanted to remedy that.

However, he was not prepared for the blood that flowed freely from his walking. And he finally stopped to allow his shoulders a rest. And his face to ease some burn.

Her goal for now was to prepare Epoch for the winter. A mundane routine day to day kept her thoughts at bay, and each morning when the sun rose, the silver she-wolf would find herself harvesting what she could, enduring the silence and quietly tending to simple pack matters when she could. @Tamar was given herbs in which Meadow hoped to boost the Morphe’s energy and mood, and every so often her path would cross the others of their humble pack.

When the bitter scent of copper and blood flooded her, she lifted her muzzle from the berries she made to fold into a large leaf. Her tail gave an idle flick, guard hairs bristling in caution until her honeyed eyes fell upon the extremely hard-to-miss mass of Reyson, the soldier of Mereo.

Her concern was swift, and she abandoned her task for the moment, flitting to him and closing the distance with discernment etched onto her dainty features. “What is this?” Her nose gave a nod to the injuries, unable to disguise the alarm in her voice.

Reyson had been filling caches. So he understood the need to fill caches and get ready for winter. He planned to take some game back. But he just needed to rest. A flick of his head, and his shoulder itched and burned, but he shifted in place. He was just getting ready to walk again, when Miss. Meadow was upon him.

He saw the look in her face and gritted his teeth, ready for healing. It was gonna hurt. He tilted his head.

Lynx.

He blinked. I was looking for you. I owe you an apology. When I came to visit. I hadn't realized we were no longer sister packs, but allies. That your leader would not come to our aid in any wars or squirmishes. I misspoke and I am sorry.

He motioned to his wounds. It was near the borders. Towhee attacked it. I tried to go to her aid, but I was not fast enough. She is gravely injured. Aquene tended to me what she could, but I didn't wish to take up to many of her resources and I needed away. Though I hadn't realized it would reopen.

He should have. He had many scars, he knew how fickle wounds could be, but he had thought these were shallower than they were, and perhaps they were. After all he was no healer.

A lynx.

Her gaze zeroed in to his shoulder, the gouges that bled and she released the breath she did not realize she had been holding. He continued to speak, and she blinked at him—he had been looking for her? The pack politics hadn’t concerned her very much—neither of her leaders had responded illy to Reyson’s gift to them and so she hadn’t concerned herself too much with it, nor had she considered his initial explanation as anything malicious.

She shook her muzzle in turn, pushing that conversation aside for now. Instead, a paw lifted, giving him a small nudge on an area of unmarred skin, which was becoming less and less it seemed, over the man’s years. “Down you go, big guy,” she murmured, an ear flickering to him as he spoke of the attack.

She loped away for a moment, pulling moss and cobweb from nearby brush. She inspected both, ensuring they lacked dirt before  bringing it back to him, waiting for him to settle down before she pressed it to his injuries gently. They would need to staunch the bleeding, first.

It did not bode well that a lynx had done so much damage to a pack in their home. Her heart stammered at the thought of any beast crossing the borders of Epoch and finding one of the many children in their custody. The pups, now, outnumbered the adults, and she felt her lips tightening at the thought.

As she tried to stop the bleeding, she snuck a glance to his face, finally allowing her curiosity to  surface. “From where I come from, allies are those you can rely on for resources, whether food, medical or war. Is that not the case with our packs?”

She stared at his shoulder, with concern and he dipped his muzzle down. That one hurt the worse. The one on his face was uncomfortable, but not bleeding. Reyson hadn't been worried about the pack issues. He simply didn't like that he had accidentally lied to the femme. It sat ill with him.

Reyson shifted and moved to his knees and then his stomach, finally turning so that she could reach the shoulder. He was not completely flat on his side, but he was certainly tilted and wasn't fond of it, for here he was at her mercy, but he doubted she would try anything.

He gave a soft hiss between canines as she pressed into the wound, but he didn't move. Settling. Though his stomach tightened at the pain. Which was a reaction he had always had. Then it would ease. Pain meant you were alive. He repeated that mantra over and over again inside his head, until the sting subsided, and he was able to focus again.

He saw her lips tightening and he spoke softly. It is dead.

He didn't know if that was the cause of her tightened lips, or she was simply worried for his wounds. But he felt the need to share that.

Reyson frowned in thought. It is what I thought as well. I do not know all the particulars, because it is not my place. But it seems that Lady Aquene was set for Epoch, when Imperator Germanicus, asked her to fill the position of Matrona in Matrona Ruenna's stead. It sounds as if, this caused ill feelings between our leader and your own. Though we are allies, we no longer hold affiliation to each other as separate halves of one entity. We are separate packs, not packs that are together.

She flinched lightly at his hiss of pain, instantly feeling bad at causing him more pain… but, it was part of her duty and job, and she cast him another glance, checking to see if he revealed it would be too much pain. It didn’t seem to be—a trained soldier through and through, and she could only idly wonder what lifestyle Mereo offered it’s soldiers.  “I can find something to help ease the pain,” she offered gently, her tail giving an idle sweep. She recalled he disliked anything that would numb him too much—and she could appreciate that.

As she continued her ministrations, she chuffed softly at the potential reasoning of the packs. Tamar was perhaps the gentlest soul Meadow had ever come across, and she couldn’t imagine any ill-will being held by the Morphe. Arsenio she knew less of, but he also seemed of good nature.

Then, with a hint of bitterness, she gave an idle snort. “If that was all it took to break a sisterhood, the bond couldn’t have been forged that deeply,” she murmured, sickened that others cast aside friendships and duty so easily. The moment the words escaped her, copper ears folded back to her skull and she looked away. “Sorry—that was highly opinionated.”

He met her eyes as she looked him over. I will be okay. You do fine and offer much less pain than some healers I have met in my day. Pain lets me know, I'm still alive.

He offered her the mantra he often would repeat to himself. Something, to make him relish it, while also remembering that he was lucky. Because if you were in pain, you had missed death.

Reyson didn't know the leaders well. He had met Tamar one time, and had found her sweet and kind. Someone that was used to being soft. Though he imagined underneath that heart of gold, she was also one of great wells of strength. The gentle ones were always the strong ones. This was something he felt to be truer than anything.

Surprised by her outburst a deep, rumbling chuckle worked it's way from his throat. Of the likes he had not given in some time. And his eyes danced merrily for a brief moment. Though it was quickly hidden again, though mirth still danced about his maw.

I am in agreement, Lady Meadow. As I said some of it is above my station. So there maybe pieces I don't know, but this is what Healer Aquene has told me and I trust her implicitly.

He frowned in thought. Though from a standpoint of a soldier and a former commander I can understand where the slight came from. Not that I agree with it, but in many cases all a soldier specifically a leader has is his word. It is a means of honor, and if Imperator gave his word to your leaders that Lady Aquene could go, then it was with dishonorable ways she was kept behind. Though they must remember that it is Lady Aquene's body, mind, soul etc that matters here and this is what she wanted.

When the blood ran less from his shoulder, she removed the dressings, eyeing the wound and humming softly to herself thoughtfully. She drifted further from him, plucking some of the last of the marigolds she had found in the area—thankfully, this time, she had some on hand for the soldier.

As she made a paste with it, she listened to him discuss the possible reasonings for the unintended shun to her pack—or the break of their bond. She noted how highly he spoke of the Lady Aquene, vaguely beginning to piece together an assumption that perhaps the two were a couple—and then trying not to fret that she would not be able to heal the man’s wounds and scars nearly as well as perhaps his assumed lover.

She took the paste, striding back to him swiftly before she placed a paw to his side, steadying him before she lowered her muzzle, smoothing the healing poultice she had prepared. With her mouth free, she gave a non-committal shrug of her shoulders and a gentle shake of her head. “So you’re saying they’re arguing over her like she’s a goat or something.” Meadow had a lot to learn about tact.

She then took more moss and web, her eyes surveying Reyson softly, pausing before she began to dab at his facial wounds. “We should stop meeting like this,” she mused, hoping to lighten the situation.

He watched as she moved around the area. Collecting herbs and plants. She was as adept if not more so than most healers. She knew her craft. a small flare of pride for her and her knowledge lent itself to his chest.

Her words again caused a snort of laughter from him. He enjoyed her lack of tact. He was much the same. Realizing he had not told the whole story he attwmpted to rectify.

Her, her husband Kallik and their children. I simply speak more of Lady Aquene as i know her better and healers hold a special place of honor to me. My mother and former lover were both healers.

Reyson shifted. Without wounds or a mission, it seems forward to visit you at your pack lands. I can and would if you'd like me too.

She pressed gently once more, every so often sneaking a glance back to his shoulder to reassure herself the blood had not begun to flow so freely once more. It looked as if it was beginning to stop—scab over, hopefully, and would let the poultice to its work.

Aquene—who was married, interestingly enough—was in the same breath noted as another who Reyson held a special respect for. As well as a former lover and his mother. “Ooh,” she crooned, still teasing. “You hold a soft spot for us healers, hm?”

Yet he discussed visiting her—without a wound or on a mission. “That seems forward?” She didn’t quite understand what he meant, her eyes sliding over to study his own gaze before she peeled back the web and moss, assessing once more. “Do you not do anything but work, Reyson?”

His shoulder was growing closed. The blood lessening. Which was good. He imagined at any rate.

Reyson offered a nod and a smile. I do. Takes a special type of wolf to deal with assholes, like soldiers can be. Pardon my language. he mumbled on an afterthought.

Reyson shook his head. Not usually no. It's all i ever had time for before. I find things different here. I have not had many friends so i am not sure how to even precede woth anything.

She couldn’t suppress the chuckle of amusement from his words—yes, she was familiar with soldiers and she wouldn’t argue against the validity of his point. Usually, though, she was simply content with the company of anyone amicable enough—for it never lasted.

She slid away from his side then, dipping back to the small patch of marigolds as she began to make another poultice. As she continued to make the paste, she glanced up, giving him a small smile, returning a more serious sentiment. “I’m not an expert on friendship or anything, since I don’t think I’ve known anyone to stick around for longer than a year, but… I don’t think it’s supposed to be brain stumper. Friendship should be… easy.”

With that, she scooped up the last of her poultice, returning to his side and giving him a gentle nudge to have him lift his cheek up while she tended to the wounds along his face, hoping these would somehow scar less on him.

That maybe, somehow, she could fix at least one thing for someone.

He wnjoyed her laughter. It was light, like her. She seemed to know soldiers. Which was in his favor.

Reyson shrugged. I had those under my command. But not much else. This is the first time i have had friends who were not soldiers.

Her eyes gleamed as she looked up at him, one more swipe of the poultice before turning her gaze away, studying her handiwork. “Except for your former lover and mother?” Who had also both been healers—but, fair enough if they had never been in the ‘friendly’ category.

She felt more confident in her work this than the time the porcupine had gotten him—but these injuries seemed far more grievous and it caused her smile to falter before she backed away, nodding at him to indicate he was free to rise once more. “Do the wounds feel stiff at all? I stand by my offer—I can give you something to help ease the pain a bit.”

He chuckled. I suppose so, both were friends first, though one could argue, mothers must always be friends first.

She kept a weather eye on his wounds as she finished placing the healing poultice upon his face and shoulder. It had already ease the sting.

Reyson shifted and moved to stand. Eyeing the smile falter on her face. They do a bit, but i figured it was from the poultice drying? That is what it has always been before. You do well. Even Lady Aquene said so, when I returned this last time. She said that your healing and quick thinking were probably what saved me from infection. And she would like to meet you.

He shook his head. I only take pain meds when it is very bad. This is a little twinge, a sting.

He seemed to pick up on her thoughts and she tried to remove the doom and gloom from her face—easier said than done. “In the short time I’ve known you, you managed to demolish half of your body so far.” She paused, offering a wane smile, her tail curling against a haunch in consideration. “I suppose I worry.”

She took a pace back, studying him lightly and ducking down at the compliment thrown in there—busying herself once more with her original task of gathering herbs prior to Reyson’s visit, if only to keep her heated cheeks from his view. “Aquene sounds very impressive. I would love to meet her one day as well.”

He wasn't privy to what her thoughts were. But she had an expressive face. And of the healers he had known they always worried after their patients.

He smiled at her, full bodied this time. Then I'll have to visit you afrer i heal and have only scars again.

She is planning a trip to Epoch before winter is upon us I believe. But if she doesn't I'll come and get you to escort you to Mereo if you'd like?


He studied her movements. I am not familiar with many plants but if you tell me what you're looking for I'll help.

She chuckled—particularly at his offer to assist her travel to Mereo. “I’ll have to check with Tamar first, but right now there’s a pup I just can’t leave…” She trailed off, again, her features downcast before she set to work once more.

At his offer to help, she gave a quick nod, her eyes sweeping the area about them, considering quietly. “See these tall flowered plants with the thicker roots at the bottom? I need these.” She paused, carefully digging one up and placing it aside. “It should help with digestion and stomach issues.”

Perhaps that was what ailed Keyni’s little one—but it would also assist the new mother, as well, with her milk.

Reyson frowned. I'm sorry to hear that. I hope the little one rallies. Babies are hearty, specifically with good care. And he did hope she could heal the tiny one. He wasn't a fan of babies, mostly cause he was afraid to break them, but they were innocent in all things and deserved a chance. And definitely more than he had been given.

Reyson stepped forward and with a gentleness he usually didn't possess he dug up the plants and placed them near hers. He tried not to take too many, for fear they would not grow back. He may not know many things, but that was one thing he knew.

What is it called?

A wane smile was given, hope clinging to her. She could heal cuts and bruises—but could she help the little one who seemed so listless? If she couldn’t then what good was she to Epoch or anyone at all?

“Fennel,” she whispered, clearing her throat from the rasp of emotion that suddenly clung to her. “It can also help with a mother’s milk… So it will be helpful in the months to come, when winter has laid the plants to sleep for the time.”

The air around them was no oppressive and Reyson was unsure how to fix it. So he continued with his duties. Laying an ear back if she wished to speak. He wouldn't tell her she could not. And it may do her some good.

He briefly thought of Renaud and how sad he would be when a pup didn't make it.

I have heard of this. Though I've not ever gathered it. I bet you love it when Spring comes to pass.

He seemed to sense her downtrodden thoughts and remained a silent rock for now—fortitude, safety. Reyson offered those things in his friendship, and Meadow was becoming more and more grateful for it. Somehow, in the few months she had been within Epoch, she had managed to break her own rule of keeping her distance from others and was quickly becoming close to more—surely, that meant that heartbreak and abandonment was around the corner.

She laughed softly at his words, casting him a smile of amusement. “I bet you do too,” she teased lightly, her tail giving a gentle sway through the air before she dug at one more as gingerly as possible. “But yes. From many standpoints, it is easier when the season has passed.”

Reyson wasn't certain what he offered. All he knew how to be was, what he was. Renaud had often called him rock steady, and though he had no idea what that even meant. He knew that it meant something to the other.

Reyson looked at her in surprise. I like spring actually. Everything is new and fresh and clean. There are small animals. You have to admit that despite that they taste good. Rabbit babies are adorable when furry. I try to avoid eating the babies until they are fully grown. There is a mmm. A sort of lull over the world in spring. Everything seems hopeful.

Reyson thought of spring, and he quickly realized her implications and chuckled. There was that. He had children in the former pack, but he was chosen for his warrior prowess not on his own merits. And then he had nothing to do with them until they reached adulthood, or halfway there at least.

The melting of winter was certainly a time to look forward to—the silence that seemed to blanket the lands with each snowfall began to lift as the birds returned home from the winter, the frogs reproducing and their gentle chirps in the night of their babies.

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped her at his admission of trying to avoid eating the baby bunnies—they were too cute? “I never tagged you as a big softie,” she murmured, another lilting tease to her tone before she rolled the gathered fennel over to a large leaf she would wrap over it, giving her the ability to carry her newfound goods back to Epoch.

“I like the sounds of that,” she decided, casting him a sideways glance. “The hopeful part.”

Reyson liked the sounds in spring. There was a liveliness to it, that made his heart gladden. As the warmer days began and winter chill was gone. He felt that when you emerged from such harsh times, the light was a good thing and it changed many things. Including your thoughts. You were hopeful, light.

Reyson gave a small lift of one side of his maw. Don't misunderstand. If there is a need and they are in abundance, I will fill caches with them, but yes part of me is soft in that regard.

Her laughter was pleasant and he watched as she lay the last fennel into her leaves. He looked her over and gave a nod. Sometimes the hope is the best part.

He tilted his head, and gazed back towards where she had originated and then back down. Sensing that she was done gathering for the day. He gazed down at her and spoke.

Would you like an escort to your pack borders?