Redsand Canyon That’s where I’m headed

@Aquene had finished her work and the dark figure had been left to rest for several days before he had roused from the medical sleep. 

At first, Crowfeather did not feel any different. His leg still hurt. When he shakily lifted his head, he looked down to the rough stump where his limb had been. It didn’t feel real. Nothing since leaving Akashingo had felt real. In his herbal sleep, he had dreamed of his time there and the time he had shared with Germanicus. All of that was gone. It would never be the same. 

The shadow felt his mouth and coughed. It was dry and difficult to swallow. There was water somewhere nearby, but he did not have the constitution to get himself there. Crowfeather searched for Aquene, hoping that she had not left him there on his own after their difficult conversation.

Edit; set after the amputation. <3

She had been attentively keeping an eye on him. It had involved many days of sleeping in the medical den rather than in her home, but it was such a precarious place to be in that she worried about complications arising and she could not very well keep an eye on things that way. He started to rouse several days later and she moved forward, examining the site. It had been a difficult procedure, and truthfully it had been hit and miss for awhile but the wound had clotted and started to heal over the stump.
 
“How do you feel?” Her soft bedside manner had returned, her irritation which she had written off as pregnancy hormones had settled and either way it did not matter. The leg was gone, and there was nothing either of them could do about it now. “It was touch and go, but I was able to do as you asked. It will still take more time to heal… and until then keeping it clean is the most important thing. An infection in the wound  before it heals could kill you.”

The healer’s soft voice drew Crowfeather’s gaze toward her. His dark ears turned to catch her words. She said that she had accomplished what he had asked, that he had made it through the procedure thanks to her care. The shadow felt a stirring of mixed emotions. He could have sworn that his leg was still attached to him, that it still burned with the pain of dragging it across the mesa and to the mountains. She’d spoken of this to him… and the removal of the leg was still fresh. Crowfeather hoped that those feelings would not remain with him forever.

Ah- he wished to thank her, but the boy’s tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth. His eyes rolled slightly as he moved to see if there was water nearby. The dryness filled his mouth. Crowfeather drew his tongue across his lips to no avail. The thought of infection was so far from his mind - he only wanted water. Water was all that mattered.

She had tried to warn him: phantom pains and a difficult healing process if he even survived and he had assured her that it was his wish regardless. His leg was laying outside the den. She was not yet sure what she was to do with it; it would be something she would have to figure out. It was tucked away at the very least so no children might get curious. Ruenna’s children were not ready to leave the den and would not be for quite some time but it never hurt to be safe in that regard either.
 
He tried to speak, but he caught in his throat and she frowned when he tried to move. “Stay there. Allow me.” She moved over, fetching a turtle shell she had managed to find during her ventures to the southern part of the canon with Kallik shortly before her own pregnancy came to fruition and carefully grabbed it by the head hole to fill with water before moving it back over to him. It spilt, but at the very least he would be able to drink from it without moving to much. “Drink from this. You need to limit your movement or else you might just bleed out yet.”

The woman’s voice was soft, kinder than it had been before the procedure had started. She seemed to have been watching closely. Crowfeather did not know how to express that he was grateful. His eyelids were heavy, and his tongue was thick in his mouth. The leg was gone, he reminded himself. It would never plague him again. With it, he would sever whatever feelings he might have believed he’d had for Germanicus. With the leg, he would chop away the temporary life he’d had in Akashingo.

When she provided water for him, he lapped at it until he thought his head would swell and burst. The dryness of his tongue withdrew. There was a warning upon her tongue – that he should not try to move until the healing had progressed, or else he would still run the risk of dying. The shadow blinked at her and nodded his snout in understanding.

T- Th- Thank you, croaked his weary voice from within his disheveled frame.

All she could do was merely be the diligent watcher on the walls. Thank you. The words were croaked and stuttered out but she understood them just fine. She offered a hum and a kind smile as she settled on her own cot nearby and watched him. “It is the least I can do. You need more rest. It will help you heal.” She encouraged, eyes peering at him with the expectation that he might lay down and take her advice.
 
It wouldn’t be a first. Apart from a chosen few, she had grown used to others taking her advice and respecting her knowledge of her craft. She had a feeling such performance now would only bolster her rapport within the pack for her healing methods, even if she had been reluctant to remove the leg in the first place. He had drank, but he was to rest. When he awoke, she’d ensure that there was food for him to eat and more water for him to drink in order to start building up the strength he had lost.

The softness of her tone did well to soothe the dark figure. His sides rose and fell with the gentle breaths that he took. The heaviness of his eyelids had forced them to close. Crowfeather could feel a stinging sensation behind them, but he anticipated that days of rest would release the irritation. The dryness that had stuck to his tongue was almost gone entirely.

Tempted to drift back to sleep, Crowfeather wavered between the dream world and the living for a few long minutes. When his eyelids fluttered open again, it was to look over the frame of the healer woman. She was with puppies. Thoughts of Germanicus angered the shadow. Aquene had helped to heal him. She was good and kind to him. She did not deserve the wrath that lingered on the edge of his tongue.

You- You… Ah… You are going to have children, he croaked out, watching her face.

Is their father good? Are you certain that he will never leave you, Aquene?

Her calm demeanor lingered even as he wavered, as he pondered aloud either for himself or for her to answer… it was up to her interpretation. The question, though perhaps it was meant more of a statement, was met with a hint of adoration for her situation in her eyes, an earnest nod as she hummed her agreement. “I am, yes.” She stated simply, not sure if more words were even required than the simple confirmation.
 
It had been so wholly unexpected. She had even planned to prevent it from occurring… but it had and she was certain it had to be some kind of supernatural sign from her mother that things were going to be okay. She was not really the spiritual type… not with her firm belief in medicine and healing and how easily death could take them all… but in rare moments it shone through. “My husband and I are having our first litter… he’s a soldier here.”

Crowfeather smiled to her. His eyes remained sad.

Something told him that she seemed motherly. It was a surprise to know that she would be bearing her first litter. It must have been a special time for the to-be mother. The shadow could only imagine the prospect of family, for he had never truly experienced any love from the one he had been born into. Seeing the healer woman glow with the promise of her future was both warming and saddening to Crowfeather.

He loves you?

The question fell from his mouth before he could stop it.

Crowfeather thought of Germanicus, again… and again.

The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes; Aquene was all too familiar with the expression he wore, though for vastly different reasons. It brought a pang to her, though she did not comment on it. The question came as a bit of a surprise, merely because she was not expecting it, her smile softening and warming as she thought to her husband.
 
“Yes, he does… he compliments me, and completes me, and is the perfect other half I could ask for. He will make a good father.” She had little doubt that Kallik would excel at parenting, despite his own nerves about the topic. “You seem sad… what else is bothering you?” She could not help but pry as she settled down carefully across from him. She helped as best as she could, as often as she could.

The shadow listened to her speak. He was forced to fight the waves of envy that he felt. Crowfeather knew that Aquene deserved the love she had been given by her husband. He would never have wished for another to find themselves longing for someone who would not return those feelings. The healer’s husband was a good man, and she believed that he would make a good father to their children.

The drugs she had given him were working well. His head was light, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he listened to her speak. When she had finished talking about her husband, she leaned toward the dark figure and asked him what was wrong.

I love him… he whispered softly. I love him… I love him so- so much.

A heavy breath fell from Crowfeather’s lips. His tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth. The shadow did not know what he said.

But he- he loves her.

She could tell the drugs were taking hold with the way his eyelids fluttered as she spoke. He started to whisper, faint but she could make out every word. He loved someone; he loved a man… but the man loved a woman. Her eyes widened a bit, a frown deepening on her features. She did not understand who he was talking about. Perhaps if she had seen the Imperator as anything other than a heteronormative male she might have put the dots together but she didn’t.
 
“Who?” She asked softly, a pang of sadness in her voice. Broken hearts were the hardest to recover from, and they ran deeper than any wound could. No wonder he wanted to lose his leg rather than be saddled with that too. “Who hurt you this way?” She asked softly, with a more defined question this time around.

Who?

Even in his drugged state, he feared speaking the man’s name. Crowfeather could see the silver of his muzzle entering the tablinum to demand his silence. The shadow tucked himself tighter, hoping to hold in all of what he felt so that it would not escape. The herbs had made his tongue loose and his mind weak. Even in his most sound state, he might have been persuaded by her kind questions, the concern that was written upon her face.

Eyelids fluttered again. Crowfeather breathed a shaky breath from his nose.

Germanicus… he whispered, choked from the back of his throat.

Why- why doesn’t he-? Love me…

Aquene could not answer this for him. His eyes closed. He brought a paw to his snout, tucking his muzzle into the limb in hopes that he might hide from this feeling. Sleep was not far. In only a few minutes, Crowfeather knew that he would be swept by the herbs into a sound slumber.

Aquene’s eyes widened, watching as the drugs overtook him and he offered a nap that Aquene had been far from expecting. This man loved the Imperator? Sought his affection? A part of her felt an anger towards him, for it would surely be a competition with Ruenna, though he had no doubt the Matrona would win it.

But also, the sadness was hard to miss, the emotions overcoming her for a moment before he gave enough of an answer: Germanicus did not love the man, a horribly unrequited love… a tragedy.

She watched over him as he fell asleep, humming softly as she minded the tablinum in the process.