Bearclaw Valley Though you can see when you’re wrong

She had stormed from Bearclaw at top speed like a ship with full sails. By the time she had reached Swiftcurrent Creek, she had been out of breath but managed a call for help. A brief respite was granted for her, and the opportunity to snatch a few mouthfuls of water, and once she had shared a few hoarse words with @Etienne and @Fenrith, they departed and began the journey across the meadow, back toward Bearclaw.

She could only hope that @Winslet survived her injuries; she had seen enough blood and torn skin to know that she would need the care of an expert, one who might have herbs on hand. 

Considering the fact that Ameline had let Arlette come and gather herbs from the Valley in the summer months, she felt their exchange would be met, fully, when the wolves of the Creek now used their abilities to help save a life. 

@Cole, she called out, when she saw the valiant sentinel, she staggered the last few steps toward him, and gestures to the two who had come with her. Etienne, and- she panted, gesturing with a limp wrist toward the second wolf whose name she could not not recall. Medics. 

She knew they could do the work, and she trusted them. Her jaw slack as she drank in air, the Regina sank to the ground nearby, to catch breath that she had seemingly outrun while fetching the doctors.

The sea born was not ready for the frenzied she wolf that came to their borders. But he gathered what he could to help and hoped to God the she wolf had things there if he didn't have enough.

Aloe from his stores, seaweed dried and crushed all 3, yarrow, poppy, cobwebs, Reed fluff. Willow branches for broken limbs. He grasped sage and rosemary. Handed off items to Fenrith in fur pieces and then followed as swiftly as his paws would allow.

He was out of breath upon their arrival, but he quickly got to work as best he could. Golden eyes falling on the white furred she wolf.

Fenrit'. We 'ave to find de source if de blood and stem it. Seek it out an' put Reed fluff dere. We will work on infection and medicine after we get de bleedin' to stop.

He didn't know the youth well, but he hoped he was up to task.

what are the injuries?

fenrith snapped to attention. he dropped the supplies he carried and nodded quickly, the boyish uncertainty that so often clung to him now replaced with focus. got it, he yipped.

he moved to the injured she-wolf’s side. she was terribly wounded, but fenrith was not deterred by the sight. deep gashes and fleshwounds upon her sides and legs. so, fenrith grabbed the reed fluff and began pressing it firmly against the wound, his paws working carefully to apply pressure without causing further harm.

hold on, he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if it was for the injured wolf or himself. his ears flicked back as he glanced toward etienne, doing his best to tend to winslet and stay out of the elder healer’s way in his own workings.

Cole’s entire body was taut, a coil of frantic energy as he cradled Winslet against him, his fur slick with her blood. Every breath she took felt like a fragile thread pulling her further from the edge, but he couldn’t let go. He wouldn’t.
When Ameline arrived, gaze snapped to her, a guttural growl rumbling low in his chest before he registered who it was. His snarl faded, though the tension didn’t leave his frame. The medics. Thank God. But even their presence couldn’t loosen the grip he had on the injured wolf.
Her legs, he rasped, his voice breaking. Her legs...I don’t— His words cut off, his throat tightening as he glanced down at Winslet’s bloodied limbs, his heart a thunderous drum in his chest.
The medics moved in, their calm precision a stark contrast to his barely contained panic. Cole’s lip curled instinctively, another growl escaping him as Fenrith drew closer to touch her wounds. Careful, he barked, his voice hoarse, his protective instincts flaring despite knowing they were here to help.
His eyes darted between Ameline and the medics, his breathing shallow and erratic. He held Winslet tighter, rocking her slightly as if trying to soothe her—and himself. You’re okay, he whispered against her ear, his voice a strained attempt at calm. They’re gonna fix you up, baby. Just hold on, alright? Just hold on.
He looked back at the medics, his jaw clenching. Fix her, he growled. Please.

the blood loss has driven the young girl into a state of near-bliss, or perhaps delirium. her head felt fuzzy, blurred at the edges. the searing pain was nearly a prick now. it frightened her, because she wasn't sure if this was her body shutting down and preparing for...for death? is this what it feels like, to be on the cusp of it?

it'd felt like ages had passed, when it'd been merely an hour or so. and the entire time, cole never left her. he cradled her as she'd once cradled the dead bird she'd found, back in her arrival to teekon. gentle, comforting. her vision frayed and doubled at times, and his urgent voice often sounded muffled. would his voice be the last she'd ever hear? 

perhaps that wouldn't be so bad. 

and then there's more. wolves she doesn't recognize, swarming around her. it makes her chest tighten; they swarm the same way the coyotes did. she whimpered—strained, weak—and buried her face into cole's chest. but they weren't here to hurt her. cole wouldn't let them hurt her. 

"i'm tired," she murmured. so tired. in her minds eye, as she let her heavy eyelids flutter closed, she pictures herself back in kathhara. sitting on the coast, listening to the gulls cry and the waves hit the sand. it was lovely.

One off-white fang caught the light for a moment when a growl reached her ears. Both wolves acted and responded purely out of instinct- like skilled gunslingers revealing the nose of their weapon only for a moment before tucking it safely back into its holster. 

When Cole barked an order at the medics, the tired Regina spared a breath to warn him with a growl thrumming in her chest. Trutht, She commanded firmly, loudly enough for all wolves to hear. The medics, after all, would need to be reassured that she would not let harm befall them should they carry out their treatment and Cole would need to believe that they would do Winslet no harm. He held on to Winslet as if to carry her through a storm. She sought his gaze as she caught her breath, preparing herself to intervene should the trusty guardian's grasp impede the healers' work. 

Winslet looked drawn, and faded. Ameline frowned, but did not intervene. She had done all that she could; Winslet's fate now rested in the hands of those who tended her wounds, and kept her warm. She sat up, still panting, but ready should assistance be requested.