Redhawk Caldera beti

he'd been here before. that thought rang absently through his mind as he stared up the caldera.

but aditya had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

he'd paired up with another loner in an attempt to take down a young mule deer buck; why they hadn't waited for easier game, he couldn't explain. they were half-mad with hunger, having only scarfed down rodents and various berries for days, and winter was growing dangerously near.

the buck had slipped from their grasp, leaving them with empty bellies and a long, jagged gash from his hooves along aditya's right front shoulder. the loner had done the best he could to doctor it, but. . .

anyway. he stood here swaying, exhausted, his wound packed with old moss and beginning to fester. he could smell it. it made his eyes water. his vision blurred with the tears, and he howled for a healer, hoping he could make a case for himself before the old man collapsed altogether.

Willing himself to get in better shape before the winter hit, Bronco began picking up his patrols a bit more in an effort to put on a bit more muscle. So, he picked his way down the slope, and began to range in serpentines along the border, so he could re-establish important markings and see who was visiting beyond them. 

He picked up the scent of blood and followed it as it led to the borders. A call came up- and he assumed it might be from the same one who bled. When he caught sight of him, he was in awful shape. Bronco could smell the beginning stages of infection, he thought. 

The wolf was a stranger, and while he appeared otherwise very regular, Bronco thought he saw a hint of age about his shoulders and the coarseness of his fur. Sage, but sad eyes. About his neck was something odd, something Bronco had never seen before. It was just above a deep wound, that had bled through the moss packed into it. He thought he recognized the shape of the gash.

He too called out. He’d stay well out of reach- injury sometimes led to madness, after all- but he spoke calmly to the stranger. ”We’ll have help on the way soon. I’m Bronco, this is the border of Brechelient. Can you tell me who you are, and what happened?” he asked.

Bridget heard the call for a healer and without hesitation changed course to pick up supplies, her pace picking up from a walk to a loping run.

If they were calling from the border then it was likely serious. She'd need something for wounds, for bleeding and infection; Bridget sorted through as her mind raced, plucking out the things she might use.

As soon as she'd snatched up anything useful she would immediately make her way to the summons.

i will pop her in in a round or two, feel free to skip for now if you like

a brawny golden-brown man arrived first, adorned in numerous scars. a warrior, by the look of him. but his voice was friendly and helpful, bronco his name. 

aditya felt himself clinging desperately to consciousness.

aditya, he replied. hunting accident. not as fast as i once was, he added, a glimmer of humor coming through even the pain. 

help was on the way. his lips were dry. he licked them, trying to find distraction from the searing agony of his shoulder. 

what's this place? adi asked.

Even injured, the man had strength to be good-natured, something Bronco appreciated. Even the friendliest wolves could change into a monster when wounded; he guessed this pain was something that was not a stranger to Aditya. He nodded knowingly and canted his body slightly, to show where the fur parted in a river of scar tissue along one side. "Antlers suck." was Bronco's reply. 

Now that he was able to get a bit closer, he got a better look at Aditya's wound, and caught a whiff of the smell. It concerned him; he knew that smell far too well. He caught himself looking more concerned than he probably should have, and relaxed his brow and lips purposefully.

He found his gaze drifting from the wound back to the odd thing about Aditya's neck, but he looked up when he was asked where he was. "You're at the borders of a pack called Brecheliant. Lucky for you, we're friendly, and have a few healers in our midst though I'm, uh, not one of them. Are you from a pack nearby?" He asked, though he had his doubts. If he did live with a pack, he should've had better care provided to his shoulder. Given that he showed up from an unsuccessful hunt by himself, Bronco figured he was a loner that made a bad gamble on a buck.

As she got near the borders the land opened up and Bridget sprinted as quickly as her three legs allowed. She skidded to an awkward, hopping stop just short of them and approached breathlessly, dropping what she carried nearby.

Hey! Here, stay there. I can help if you let me take a look. She could tell Bronco was already working through the introductions, so she only hesitated long enough to determine his permission before she came in and began to inspect the injuries.

My name's Bridget. I'll work on this, if you can keep talking. We'll get you to water soon. She wanted to get him cleaned up and patched before she moved him. It was good Bronco was here - she may or may not need his help. He looked thirsty and slightly feverish - the wound was definitely at least in the initial stages of infection.

She started to carefully remove the old dressings, working as gently as she could to start. Once she began actually cleaning it her touch would need to be firmer. She couldn't let it fester further.

brecheliant—friendly—

words flitted in and out of his consciousness, and he clung to them as he could, but they passed him by.

. . .pack nearby?

my daughter, adi managed, gritting his teeth as the healer began to work at his wound. oh, god. . . his vision blurred again, and he blinked profusely, trying to remain alert. i am looking. . .for. . .my daughter. . .silktail. dark, wi' white. . .brown. . .

darkness fell; he was passing out. no? he came to again.

he craned his head, looking at the woman (did she have three legs?!). that hurts, yaar, he whined, lips pulled down in a frown.

Bronco couldn’t help much with medicines, but he assumed Bridget wanted him to be a distraction, so she could tend to his wounds. If he kept Aditya’s focus, she could work on him without worrying about being snapped at if she hit a tender spot. 

This wasn’t going to go exactly as planned, as it appeared Aditya had a hard time staying conscious. 

”You have a daughter, named Silktail that you’re looking for?” Maybe keeping things simple would be best. Strong ties were the best things to keep in mind in times of dire pain. Silktail was described- but Bronco pictured an adult wolf, not a child. Thus, he was not led to consider Shenanigans who had blended in so well with the other kids she might as well have just been born with them. He focused on the pain- Bronco didn’t want him swinging his head anywhere near Bridget in case he lashed out instinctively.

”How old is Silktail?” he asked. ”Does Silktail have a pack?” He asked.

sorry for the slight wait on this one!

It needs cleaned, or it's going to do more than hurt. Bridget replied, firmly but not without feeling. She glanced at Bronco appreciatively, but didn't stop what she was doing. If he passed out here then she'd take care of him here until she was able to get him where he needed to go.

She worked further while she left him to answer the man's questions, then moved on to picking out the things she'd brought for infection. She could already tell there was a bit of sickness to the wound, so she went for a few that in combination would hopefully help. Once she'd gotten him moved, and some water, she'd give him something to eat as well. Giving him herbs right now would most likely just result in him losing what little he had in his stomach already.

She did move around, though, and settle herself against his back as she continued. Sometimes the contact helped to keep them calmer.

daughter—silktail—have a pack?

it's going to hurt a lot worse. . .

the two voices faded in and out, blooming and ebbing, as he grappled with consciousness. the healer's physical presence against him, though, was a little grounding, and he leaned against her, trying to modulate his breathing.

yes, my daughter, aditya replied. silktail. black. . .white and brown. half a moon old. . .?

god, he wasn't sure.

what was time?

he thought he might die from this.

he began to slump against bridget's ministrations, spiraling into the darkness that yawned at the edge of his vision.

"Silktail," Bronco repeated. He felt that having a familiar name spoken might help keep the man a bit more stable, and focused on something positive. He murmured a vague description and slumped against Bridget. "Here. Lemme slip in there, we can lean him on me and you can work on that," He said softly, moving into position if she allowed. Presently, he was still a bit too focused on the wounded stranger to concentrate on thinking of which wolves he knew that met his description. Half a moon old, though? That was tough. Not nearly old enough to survive on their own. 

He looked over Aditya's shoulder to watch Bridget's work, quiet so that she could direct him as needed.

Bridget let out a breath of surprise as the man began to slip towards the ground, pausing in what she was doing to catch him. Shit. Yeah, that'd help. She could hold him, but she couldn't while doing what she needed to, and Bronco seemed strong enough. She waited for him to take her place, then slipped carefully away, tottering a little before finding her balance and rounding to check his vitals.

We need to get him to some water. And I really don't like the look of these wounds. He's burning up. She said, pressing her nose gently against his temple. Shit indeed.

Can you carry him? I can help. As soon as they got him there she'd try and get him to drink, then attempt to bring his temperature down and finish patching the worst of these up. Tonight would be a long one for her but she was more than ready for the challenge. He wasn't dying on her watch.

can be my last!