The wolf had soaked in cold waters, basked in warm daylight and returned to the pack to tread along the borders where a trail had been worn. The scent of aspen and fresh water greeted her. Despite feeling weary, she settled into a slow walk along the borders where she had left off, resuming her patrol with no indication that anything had been awry.
She remained hormonal, but out of touch now with her body’s demands. Not only her skin had become numb, her urges had become quiet as well, and for that she was grateful.
Arlette picked up a different scent, one she hadn't seen or met. Her curiosity got the better of her and she went after it. It didn't take long before a large grey female came into view. She was--- Large. Arlette almost staggered a bit. She was on the smaller size and felt instantly intimidated. She pushed it down though. This was a fellow pack mate, it had to be.
She approached with a gently wagging tail. "Hi, I'm Arlette. I joined recently," she introduced herself in a friendly matter. Arlette eyed her over for a moment, she looked tired, but perhaps that was an assumption. [b]"Are you well?,"[b] she asked.
When Moss turned her heavy head to regard the woman, she showed no pity though she felt it. Beneath all the scars was a wolf who was well beyond conventionally pretty. Her looks were wild, stunningly beautiful Moss thought- appealing to anyone with an eye for natural beauty. The scars did nothing to lessen her radiance, but they did certainly speak of some atrocious battle. Claw marks were indicative of something non-wolf.
The quietness of her voice and meekness of her waving tail spoke volumes, that Moss read carefully, like pages from a favoured book. Not often was the burly woman moved to be gentle, but in the presence of humility even she could be tamed. She bowed her deeply head in greeting before she spoke.
”Moss Agate.”
A new introduction- from a wolf much changed. But she said nothing more, and returned her distant, slightly sad gaze to the distance.
The bigger female didn't seem like much of a talker, which was fine with Arlette. She had been with the Saints. There were lots of stoic types. Usually they did warm up to her. And if not, that was also fine with her. She was rather easy going. Her question wasn't answered but she did get a name. Moss Agate. Beautiful.
"Nice to meet you," she returned. "My skills lie with healing, so if there is something amiss you can come to me if you want something to be looked at," she explained. "I'm also Bellatrix's mother," she added. Not sure if this female was close with Bellatrix or not. "Have you been long at Swiftcurrent?"
Moss flicked an ear in Arlette's direction, indicating a light annoyance at being offered medical assistance even though she felt she didn't look like she needed it. What she hadn't seen was the frailty that had settled within her in the wake of her heart attacks. The way there was a slight rise at her hips where her hip bones became more noticeable, and the coarseness of her coat that made even the once-velveteen fur of her muzzle become short, stiff and more like bristles.
She also didn't account for the fact that being 'well' wasn't simply a physical thing. When that occurred to her, she slowly turned her muzzle toward Arlette. She blinked, surprised to hear that this wolf was Bellatrix's mother. She would've thought them similar in age, though she didn't spend a great deal of time with Bellatrix anyway. Her second question went unanswered for a moment, when she finally decided to test the woman's capabilities.
"Can you lift a curse?"
Her questions were not answered. The female seemed quite stoic or at least unwilling to talk. It didn't bother Arlette too much, it was perhaps just how the woman was. The woman did ask her one thing though. If she could lift curses. Arlette blinked. She felt that a curse could be anything. Some might think they're cursed because of a chronic illness, others might suffer mentally. She could always try to look at the symptoms.
"I can try. What does the curse do?," she asked curiously. Just so she knew the spectrum of operations. "Depending on the curse I can see if I can help."
Moss felt doubt creep in when Arlette's answer was positive, but tentative. She did not know the exact nature of the curse herself, but had felt its afflictions. "Twice, it has stopped my heart." She said. She hoped Arlette wouldn't pass it off as being heart failure or heart disease- she knew for herself that she had been healthy as an ox until the witch had uttered the words in self-defense. She'd been bowled over backwards by syllables; mountains weren't often crumbled by the warble of a bird.
"It has poisoned my soul," She said, shaking her head gently. "I have done what I can to draw it out." But she couldn't be sure. She couldn't know until her offering had been accepted; and would hope it would take the bait and seep into the new life she promised.
Arlette raised her brows and then nodded, that did seem like a serious ailment. But then, the woman did come back to life, or at least, managed to survive the heart attack. "Did it happen at specific moments?," she asked curiously. Perhaps they could find the trigger. Arlette nodded understandingly. She could understand that it troubled the other.
"What have to tried? Just so I know what not to do," she commented. She could learn from this after all, and she saw it as a learning opportunity.
The more Arlene asked, the less Moss wanted to say. There were too many details, and she felt that explaining was exhausting. She figured if someone was able to lift curses, they should also be able to detect them.
She groaned softly, a sign of her reluctance, before she slowly shook her great head. ”No use.” She concluded.
Arlette was rather baffled when the female said that it was no use. Arlette didn't understand this woman or why she wouldn't want to answer her questions. It seemed to her that she asked the wrong things and now the female was closing off. "I want to help," she offered, because she did really want to help. "But if you don't tell me more about it I can't help. If that is your conclusion, then you will have to live with your curse," Arlette reasoned.
Arlene was a good medic- she was persistent. She looked down upon the woman whose eyes were as determined as the dawn, and as red as a summer sunset. Her gaze softened slightly, before it went back to being empty. Not even this one would know.
”Is a cursed life even worth living?” She asked, then. Perhaps Arlene could help her with a decision that she knew would come up soon enough.
Arlette paused. "It depends on the loved ones you leave behind. But curses and pain can make someone close off from others, making the separation or eventual goodbyes less painful," she spoke. She had seen it happen, wolves closing off, and pushing others away. The woman kept her eyes on the female. "We can try to lessen the curse you feel, but you do need to talk about it. Talk about what happens, and what you did so far. Otherwise I might try the same while it doesn't work." She offered a soft smile. Often talking was the hardest part, she knew that.
Arlene really seemed to want to help- but Miss could sense suspicion as well. Perhaps it would be easier to nip that in the bud, now, and have to share fewer words later.
”I was hunting a witch for leaving a curse on our borders, and threatening one of our packmates. She has hurt others as well so it was determined she should be hunted down.” She sighed. ”She’d been backed into a hole when I found her. She said something….I don’t know what. But it made my heart stop.”
She paused.
”I fell down a hill, and my heart must’ve been restarted from the impact. Weeks later when I looked at a man who had helped her, it stopped again. Someone from another pack beat it back into life.” She said.
”It will stop a third time; I cannot go now to find the witch to beg a cure of her. Not unless-“ and her labradorite eyes shifted back to Arlene again.
”It is you, simply wearing a disguise.”
Arlette sat down and quietly listened to the story. She nodded at the right moments to show that she was listening. So there was another wolf involved, a witch. She was not really familiar but she did understand the gist of it. There seemed to be 2 occasions where the female was saved from the heart stopping. How curious.
Arlette had never heard such a thing happening. Though the heart stopping was usually fatal. It was a miracle the other survived. She mentally noted everything down. Beat it back, that sounded... brutal.
Arlette shook her head quietly. "If I were the witch your heart should have or probably would have stopped by now," Arlette told her. "I'm not her, but I also don't know what I could say to convince you. Except, help you with this cure since I figure the which wouldn't help you."
Then there was the matter of helping the other. "I will look into this. See what I can do to cure it," Arlette offered determinedly. She never had a case like this before, how fascinating!
Part of her hoped she had unravelled the witch’s devious design. She wished to see Arlette cackle and she’d her pure coat to reveal the matted black fur, for her eyes to shift and become blue and yellow. But nothing of that ilk occurred- though Arlette showed a slightly dark sense of humour. Naturally, if she had been the witch…Being discovered might give her reason to end Moss once and for all.
She offered to help, though. Moss believed Arlette was telling the truth, and reconsidered the truths she had been withholding. She breathed in, and exhaled.
”I will tell you something, but you must swear it to secrecy.”
Arlette seemed to have convinced her. She was glad. Perhaps now the female would give her some more insight. The red eyed woman moved in a little closer, angling her head when Moss mentioned something she would wanted to tell. Arlette dipped her head right away. "Of course. No one will hear of it," she assured the other.
There might be complications about it, but at least the female would maybe get more information about this curse, or illness. She knew not everything could be fixed but perhaps she could ease the woman's worries and pain.
She came close, to listen. Moss's pupils widened for a moment, and something dark, deep within her tempered the shine of her eyes so they reflected very little light. The whites of her eyes shone for a moment as she considered, and reconsidered telling Arlette her thoughts. She felt something stir deep within her, like a snake coiling within the pit of her gut. Was it compelling her to speak, or begging her to remain secretive?
She blinked, and exhaled. She realized her heart had begun to race, its erratic thumping wild and threatening. She shook her head quietly. If she spoke now, she'd likely be silenced, once and for all. "I should go." She resigned.
Arlette took in the panicked female. There was something that stopped her from speaking. Arlette was not one to force that out of her. "Whenever you feel ready you can come and tell me," she offered. "In the meanwhile I will bring you some dried lavender to help with the anxiety," she added. The woman felt torn to really press on, but she felt that she had already made a step that the female was talking more and considering telling her. The woman offered her a friendly smile. "Any other aches I might give you something for?"