Slowly he began to recover. Too much effort made him easily light-headed, but he was not as sleepy as he had been previously. The Dragon had done a number on him but he was still alive, as was Dawa. He had not brought himself to visit her yet, wanting to get well enough to help her if she needed it. He was still pretty reliant on the others for the most part, but thankfully he had excellent training as a monk and kept his body well on his own. He sat now near the edge of the Vale, staring into the waters of a thin creek with old, tired eyes.

Tenzin shuddered with a sigh. He did not know what the Dragon had planned to do with the wolves who had claimed home within the Vale. The beast was a servant to anger and the monk's expression grew saddened. There was nothing he could do to save his disciples; they would rise on the heat of Dragon fire to where Tenzin could not reach them - where he would not follow. The afternoon sun was dipping beyond the mountains now, throwing a harsh shadow over valley. Looking up to where the avalanche had dislodged from, Tenzin smiled.

It was an unfortunate event but that was life. The Dragon was also an unfortunate event, and Tenzin grew to regret his decision of freeing the beast from its restraints. It could no longer be bound and so the monk survived under it, finding some solace in Xi'nuata who had chosen to live her life beside such a creature. She was a good counterpart to such a demon, though Tenzin still did not understand how any could love the Dragon. Then again, the monk knew that evil plagued the world and so he continued on, living to serve as a light for others when they were lost within the dark.

The monk was working on putting the Dragon's rage behind him, although he would continue to live under the creature's reign. He would not leave his charge and would do his best to repent. Tenzin was good at talking with people, but many of his skills fell off when it came to what the Dragon considered useful. At most, Tenzin was good for story telling and watching the young now. There was no use for him where the Dragon walked, except perhaps to keep an eye on Dawa should the oily beast permit it.

A sound caught his attention and the monk turned to view his unexpected visitor. A dirtied white male with a collection of herbs at his feet: this must have been the Creek wolf that Xi'nuata had told him about. Tenzin offered the wolf a warm smile despite his pained state. "Welcome, friend," he greeted, pleased with Xi'nuata's decision to allow the wolf into the Vale for herbs. The monk didn't know much about the wolf, but he was always willing to share resources, especially for healing purposes.

Tenzin hadn't expected the wolf to be as old as him, though. Had they met earlier, the monk would be in higher spirits and much less tired looking. For his age, he had been in great shape. The Dragon tore all that away from him, though. His tired eyes rested on the other wolf and he smiled again. "I am the monk, Tenzin. I see you have come to collect herbs," he said gently. "I am glad that they help you and yours." Though there was tension between the two packs, Tenzin was not the kind of wolf to leave others in a time of need. It was his duty as a monk to help all creatures.

"I don't believe I learned your name," he apologized, "forgive me." He had turned by now, but sat again to rest his sore body. The smell of blood lingered on the wolf before him but Tenzin did not mind it. With all of the injuries in the Vale lately, it was something he had become used to.

When the wolf mentioned the other Vale wolves being in need, his heart sank. Again he was reminded at his inability to save them - from the avalanche, and now from the Dragon. Tenzin wondered how many of them the other aged male had seen already, or if he only knew the situation from Xi'nuata. The monk steadily watched the icy gaze of his companion trace his injuries, and he smiled weakly at the observation. "No," he confirmed gently, holding back the rest of the information though he knew it must look as if he had been torn apart by another. When offered the flowers, the monk hesitated. Were the Vale wolves not in need of such treatment more than him?

He stepped forward slowly to gain his footing, then crouched below Lecter to take his prescribed dose of geranium. Xi'nuata would curse his lack of security, for sure, but Tenzin was a testing creature. Though there was tension between the Vale and Creek wolves, the monk did not fear a wolf based on who his alliance lay with. He was a monk who served a Dragon now, and the Dragon served anger. But that did not mean that Tenzin, too, served the same anger. His lip lifted at the bitter aftertaste and he turned around to take a drink from the creek trickling behind him

Turning back to Lecter, the monk nodded to his words. "Yes. My spine is bruised and my ribs too hold injury, though I am unsure if they are just bruised or possibly broken," he evaluated himself again, taking deep breaths and staring blankly ahead. "Just bruised I think," the monk confirmed, voice hoarse, though he could not be for certain. "My throat is awful sore as well—" he paused, eyeing Lecter for a moment before deciding it wouldn't matter whether or not the shaman knew the cause of his injuries.

"I was lifted by the throat and thrown against a tree," Tenzin said with a bit of a chortle. Despite the situation, he always sought the sun in the dark side of a shadow. "I am easily light-headed. I was also lifted by the head and thrown against the ground," he explained, rolling his shoulders. His muscles were tense all over from stress and pain, and now from age. His years weighed down on him now more than ever, heavier in the dark. He swished the taste of the geranium around in his mouth before licking his muzzle.

"Mm," he hummed, turning to face a break in the trees. "There are warm springs that way. If you'd walk with me there, I'm sure we'd both benefit from a dip," Tenzin offered, though really he was asking Lecter to walk with him because his injuries were still too bothersome to make the trip alone. He didn't want to fall and break something more and be without the aid of another, even if the shaman was on a bit of temporary loan, so to speak.

As Lecter's eyes grew hard, the monk's grew more soft to counterbalance. He could not help but muster a chuckle when the shaman offered to curse his assailant. To say the Dragon was stupid brought a smile to Tenzin's face, the simplicity of the word easy on his ears. It was such a simple explanation. Lecter had used the word cur and Tenzin wondered if the fellow old male had an inkling about what had happened. The monk supposed it probably would not be hard to guess, especially from older, wiser mind.

"There is no need," Tenzin said softly to the offer, "it has cursed itself." And truly, by whatever foul plan the Dragon swore by, it had. Though the Dragon fire was hot within its mouth now, surely it would choke on the smoke later. There was only a matter of time before such a beast would suffocate.

When the shaman agreed to accompany him, Tenzin stretched as much as his sore body would allow before setting off through the break in the trees. He took this time to assess the scent on Lecter. "What has bloodied you, my friend?" he asked gently, perhaps almost worried. There had never been a time when Tenzin was leading the Vale that he knew he would survive as an alpha - not here, not among these wolves. He cared for all things, good or bad, and did not wish to appear physically dominant over one or the other. It was not in his nature to force submission nor was it his duty. It was almost a relief that the Dragon took such a role from him.

The spring was located near the edge of the cliff face of the large mountain. It hadn't been too far from where the aged males had been originally. They arrived at the spring in due time, the smell of sulfur growing stronger as they approached. "It does not smell pleasant, but it feels nice," the monk muttered, slowly letting himself dip into the shallow end of the pool. He lay there in the shallow water with his head resting on one of the cool, smooth rocks that bordered the pool. A sigh eased out of him as he rested. "Have you always lived near here?" he asked, feeling blessed for such warm springs. Jokhang had nothing like this. It was a cold, unforgiving place.

The monk did not doubt the shaman's innate wisdom that came with age. When Lecter began to speak about who—no, what—could have caused him such grave injuries, Tenzin let a smile slide onto his face. "Harbor what you may," Tenzin said softly, unwilling to let himself feel the same ill will. He accepted all creatures, even demons like the Dragon. When Lecter went on to explain the blood on his coat, the monk let an eye open to peer at his fellow elder. "Is that so?" he asked warmly, adding, "I hope such devotion is rewarded well enough." Tenzin's reward was peace of mind. He kept a calm composure about most things, even things that would turn a normal wolf mad - wolves—creatures—like the Dragon.

Shifting to turn and view Lecter better, Tenzin let out a sigh of relief as the warm water soaked through his fur. The flowers the shaman had given him were working now. Feeling very relaxed, the monk hmm'd to Lecter's question and nodded. "We also come from far away, very far away," Tenzin began, looking toward the mountain as if looking far beyond it. "You may know of our pack structure, yes? We take it from a large empire called Jokhang, where we were born. It was a pack that sought to overtake any and all around it. It grew into a unhealthy and unbalanced illness," voice dropping, Tenzin narrowed his eyes as if saddened by the thought.

"When Raheerah was a wolf, he was a good Warrior. Madness took him and he became the Dragon. It ripped through most of our Clerics and it took many of our Warriors and Monks to subdue it. Such a disturbance was considered unhealthy and the Dragon was bound by the Monks," he explained, closing his eyes as he relived those painful days. "Dawa was injured during the Dragon's rage, and I took it upon myself to look after her where others had left her for dead. But she could not survive in Jokhang," he continued, "Our only chance of escaping was with the Dragon." Tenzin did not have regrets, save for that one.

"It worked. I unleashed the Dragon on the terms that it would be free once we found a paradise for Dawa," he chuckled here, as if in humility, "and now it has claimed its freedom." He gave a great sigh and looked to Lecter softly. "I feel wrong for allowing it to posses Xi'nuata. She is strong and good at heart. I hope the Dragon does not suffocate her in its rage someday," he said sadly.

"I wouldn't want to return to Jokhang," he said, referencing Lecter's mention of returning to the coast. "I miss my Brothers, but they are with me in spirit. That place is an illness," he hissed, voice thin. Tenzin enjoyed telling stories and he had many to tell, but nobody to tell them to. Dawa had heard most of them by now and he wasn't even sure she enjoyed listening to him draw out encounters and boring spiritual journeys. The story of Jokhang was much larger than what Tenzin had summarized it to, and the story of the Vale was growing.

"I hope you will not stay in the Creek for long," Tenzin said suddenly but did not elaborate. The will to overtake and posses that which is around it had taken hold of the Dragon. The monk could sense the illness within the Dragon as it threw him relentlessly into the ground. Lecter may honor different Gods, but Tenzin found solace within his fellow older companion, crazy shaman or not.

At the mention of slavery, Tenzin turned an ear and shrugged. There was nothing to be done now. He knew his time as 'alpha' wouldn't last long. When Lecter continued, the monk raised a brow. Was the old wolf offering Tenzin an alternative? "Indeed," Tenzin confirmed Lecter's beliefs. "I cannot leave Dawa, she is more or less my charge. I rescued her because I promised her mother I would look after her," a warm smile broken his words as he thought of Yonten. Had he not committed to monkhood, Yonten would have been his mate. But his path led him elsewhere in life.

The monk stretched in the water and looked toward Lecter lazily, relaxed. "I cannot leave with Dawa either. Neither of us will ever leave the Vale alive." As ominous as it sounded, it was true. The Dragon would never let them escape his grasp - especially Tenzin. The monk knew he'd die by the beast's jaws someday. Though his age and injuries numbered his days, he would not die by natural causes. As for Dawa, he feared natural causes were piling up against her. He knew, on some conscious level, that she would likely not last much longer.

Tenzin shrugged again. "I hope our customs do not seem strange or confusing. Where the Warriors make up most of the life-force of our pack, Monks and Clerics are just as important," he paused to frown, "but the Dragon's influence pushes newcomers to be Warriors, I think." He knew other packs did not follow such rankings. "We do not consider words like 'slave' as we do not do those kinds of things. We are bound simply by what path is chosen for us. As a monk, I live to serve others. I do not take mates nor should I really have children," he chuckled again. "Dawa is an exception. While I know I am not her father and she is not my daughter, I love her all the same."

There was a silence as he thought of her. When she passed, which he knew was likely to be before him, what would become of him? During the avalanche, he had become spiritually detached at the thought of losing her, but somewhere in his mind knew she was not lost; when he knows for certain she has left this world, what will become of the monk? He searched his memories for pain and loss, but could not think of an incident where it affected a monk. And by no means should it! Had Tenzin grown too soft to call himself a monk? He frowned at the thought.

"If I may," Tenzin said softly, "Where are you going?" He hoped it would not be far. While the monk considered almost everything to be his friend, he very rarely ever felt so close to one who was not his Brother. Whether it was their age or some other magical divine right, he yearned for a friendship with Lecter. If the wolf moved far, Tenzin may not be able to visit or vice versa. And should they never meet again, the monk was truly blessed by such a bloodied shaman.

There was a moment of silence after Lecter spoke of Dawa's wounds. Tenzin's brows furrowed and he frowned heavily. If she were to never walk again, she would surely feel more useless than she already did. It pained him to know she was likely not long for this world. And if she died, what would the Dragon do? Perhaps the monk should seek to sneak away with Lecter, but even if he wanted to, he was sure the Dragon would find him eventually and strike him down. There was a sudden flash of teeth from the shaman and Tenzin looked up with a curious expression.

"Ah," he mused with a smirk. "It is not my choice. I simply exist to be a mindful monk, my place among ranks does not matter," he tried to reassure Lecter, gaze drifting off to the treeline. "It is true I do not enjoy the Dragon. It is not my right to dislike or judge, and certainly my gods frown upon it," he chuckled, "but it is hard to enjoy the fire that burns you." Tenzin shifted and pulled himself out of the water, exhaustion settling in. He didn't want to suddenly fall asleep and drown himself in the spring. Laying himself beside the cool rocks that lined the pool, he turned his head to view Lecter once again.

"If the gods permit such a feat, perhaps you could rescue me someday," the monk said lightly, though not entirely in jest. His eyes saddened and he looked away again. He was under the full effect of the herb Lecter had given him and was feeling quite at ease despite the severity of his wounds. If Dawa passed away, there would be nothing left for him in the Vale but endless torture and servitude. Perhaps it was to be his punishment for releasing the Dragon unto the world after all he and his fellow monk brothers had done to bind it to its cave of eternal imprisonment. A sigh escaped the monk and he closed his eyes.

"Forgive me, my friend," he breathed, body melting into the ground. "I fear I may... fall asleep," he voiced drifted off and the combined effect of both his head injury and his relaxed state pulled him dangerously close to passing out. "May we meet again," he managed to say in a breathy voice as his body fell limp. There were no dreams for him now as his mind escaped him into an empty black abyss. It did not matter where he slept within the Vale, for he had no enemies within the sanctuary aside from the Dragon - and the creature would surely never kill him in his sleep. The Dragon would make the monk suffer, and that could not be done in such a simple or spontaneous manner.

exit!