Duskfire Glacier when it hurts this good, you gotta play it twice

@Rye. Set for the morning after Rye's hunting accident.

"Wye?" Lane called softly, approaching the clearing where the ill-fortuned hunter was supposed to be resting. She'd meant to call his name, but the medkit in her jaws muffled the sound, so the word emerged sounding more like the question, "why?"  Lane imagined that it was only a matter of time before she would be hearing that particular word night and day, as children were known for their constant queries of "why, why, why?" 

She dearly hoped that her friend was feeling better, and that he would accept treatment today more readily than he had yesterday. She wouldn't be surprised if the finer points of the accident had receded from his memory... Even for Lane, it was all a blur of chaos and confusion, and she wasn't the one with the potential concussion. 

Lane's stomach fluttered just a bit at the thought of seeing Rye again, alone for the first time since that night in the rain. She would tell herself it was just leftover nerves from yesterday, or perhaps another bout of pregnancy nausea coming on. Her presence here was wholly and entirely, one-hundred-percent professional.

Was it all a dream? Did he really fail that miserably? No, he couldn't have let himself mess up but something hurt. Rye looked around confused, seeing nothing but forest and the immense fog surrounding him. The pain strengthened and so did his confusion. Ryes search intensified, adamant to find what was troubling him so deeply. "Why?" A sudden voice whispered in his ear.
Rye jolted awake, his tawny eyes once hidden by closed lids quickly revealed themselves to the suns blinding glare. A low groan emitted from the male as he lackadaisically moved his head to shield his eyes from the light. While he gazed into the distance with half lidded eyes he could just barely make out a dark, blurry figure approaching him. A series of fast blinks washed the fuzz from his eyes and revealed to him, Lane. She held a medkit in her maw. Rye shoved himself up with his good shoulder, a painful endeavor but one that he thought would be necessary; or at least helpful in the long run. 
"Hey, Lane." He rasped, throat dryer than sand. Rye swallowed hard in attempt to dampen the back of his throat but it did next to nothing. The hotah decided to keep his silence until he approached. 

Lane's eyes widened as Rye looked like he was trying to struggle to his feet-- standing up would be a bad idea-- but then he seemed to settle for propping himself up just enough to converse.  He sure was blinking a lot. Was that because he had just woken up, or was something off with his vision? 

At least he remembered her name; that was a good sign. She settled the medkit on the ground and met Rye's gaze with a smile. "Hey," she returned his greeting. Seeing the pain in his movements, she winced sympathetically. "Ouch. The experts say you'll recover, but you need to take it easy." She wanted to nudge him comfortingly, but given that he seemed to be covered from head-to-toe in scrapes and bruises, she restrained herself. 

The rasp in his voice hadn't escaped her, and so the first thing she dug out of her medkit was her soaked moss. Shen nosed it over to Rye, in case he wanted a drink. It would probably be another day or so before he could drag his beaten hide down to the lake for proper refreshment, and a soaked moss ball was better than nothing. 

"How much do you remember about what happened?" How had Rye ended up at the bottom of a rocky pit? Lane was curious about the cause of the accident, but she was also completing a mental checklist a part of a concussion examination. She was not overfamiliar with Rye's typical personality, but his behavior had seemed a bit erratic yesterday, which was worrying.

Pain patches splotched the lower half of his body that touched the ground, pinches and dull aches that felt like rocks and pine needles stuck into his skin. Abrasions and bruises, covered Ryes body, he was confident there was a bruise and cut for every hair on his body. Comfort was merely a dream now, a frustratingly sparse dream. Lanes words pulled him from the thoughts of his hounding pain, his eyes meeting hers with a smile of his own exchanging a silent welcome. Her gift of a soaked moss ball was visually refreshing and soon to be physically refreshing as well. Rye stuffed the moss into his cheek, squeezing it and drinking the water that oozed out from its temporary storage. Dirt, slime, and leafy greenness all accumulated into one big taste of liquid earth. Although it wasn't the best taste in the world, Rye would not complain to his companion. She was there out of the kindness of her heart and Rye wasn't going to let that go unappreciated. A gift would be arranged for her in the future, its contents not yet know to the male but he was sure to make it a worthwhile gift.

Rye released the moss ball from his cheek and set it beside him. "The experts say I should rest? You'll have to tell them I can't rest. I have responsibilities to tend to, which have grown exponentially in importance these past weeks." Rye gave Lane the cheeky head tilt and raised eyebrows of 'you can't stop me' before continuing. "If I can walk, then I can at the very least try to keep up on the endless list of chores to do around here." He hated the thought of being useless, he didn't want to be the weak chain link because of his mistake. It wasn't going to pan out that way, even if Lane chew his ear for not heeding medical advice. "Thank you for the drink by the way." His voice was not back to its usual smooth self but the rasp was nearly gone and the thick dryness of his throat had dissipated. 

Lanes question lead Rye into deep thought, his mind retracing the steps he took only a day ago. The walk, the fox, the chase and then the—. He couldn't call upon his memory to show him what happened, everything beforehand was there but it faded into obscurity the further past the chase he tried to recall. His brows furrowed while he stared at the ground. There were bits and pieces after the blank spot that was the accident but each piece was hard to nail down, they were scattered and broken like a crushed dry leaf in the wind. "Not a whole lot," Rye glanced at Lane. "Well actually, nothing really at all. I was chasing a fox and that's as far as I can remember, after that I can't think back on any memories. It feels like it's there, it feels so tangible but I can't get to it. I know that I hurt myself but the how is lost to me. I do remember a small portion of the after the accident but those are weird and hazy. What happened?" There was a little frustration that came with not having those memories, and some fear that he clearly hurt himself bad enough not to have memories of the event. To say the least, he was curious to know what he did. 

After he took a drink, the first thing out of Rye's mouth was an argument. Lane had to consider that maybe he didn't have a concussion.. maybe it was just in his nature to be a little contrary. His body language toed the line between teasing and challenging, and Lane couldn't help but fire right back. 

"That's exactly how I feel. I'm pregnant, not invalid. There's no reason why I can't contribute fully like everyone else, or at the very least just do my job." She raised a brow, wondering how much he recalled from the previous day. He certainly hadn't made things easier, running off when she was trying to treat him, functioning on the misguided notion that she was putting herself in danger by simply doing her job while pregnant. 

She might have gone on to give him a mouthful about that, but he interrupted her train of thought with his expression of gratitude. 

"Sure thing," Lane replied, deflating a bit as her exasperation faded. She sure was touchy lately. 

She perked up as Rye began to give what few details he could recall from the accident, which was really just that bit about chasing a fox. Lane hummed thoughtfully. Foxes could be tricky little demons; she wouldn't be surprised if it had led Rye over the precipice on purpose. 

"Well, Tzila found you at the bottom of a rocky ravine, in those woods over there." Lane nodded in the direction of the pit; the site of Rye's accident wasn't all that far, seeing as they had wanted to avoid walking Rye too much once he was bandaged. "Best guess is, you fell. You're pretty beaten up, and you've got a nasty wound behind your shoulder.. You probably hit your head too. You were conscious when I got there, but you.. ah, you weren't the easiest patient." 

Now the Rye seemed to be more or less okay, it was easier for Lane to see the humor in the situation. Amusement pulled at the corners of her expression. She was not known for being an easy patient herself, when she was the one being treated. 

"You've got a marigold and horsetail poultice under that bandage, at the moment. I'd like to add a little oak leaf to the mix, if you'll let me take a look." Lane took a hesitant step forward, but she would wait to touch Rye until he'd given his permission.

Although the thread has yet to be completed I do know Rye will be slightly aggressive/moody, in short he's gonna be very dismissive of help. Though, if you'd like, you can wait until I get a reply up to get the full scope of what he will do! Welcome to powerplay small movements as needed. 

 

Lane returned with a small spit of fire but it confused Rye, his ears twisted backwards as comprehension of the conversation faded from his expression. His eyes searched between the trees, darting between the pines and bushes scattered in the distance, as if the answer to his confusion would be found there. Was he losing it? Concern was grabbing hold of the emotional reins as thoughts of sudden memory loss surfaced in his mind. He began to wonder if he'd said something and forgot it only moments afterwards. For a second time, Rye retraced his actions and words in hopes of sparking the possible forgotten memory but the more he thought, the more confidence he had in himself that he didn't forget. His eyes returned to the female, an inkling of confusion clear in his features. "What do you mean? I don't think I said anything about your pregnancy." Ryes voice slowly transitioned back into uncertainty mid sentence, continuing as he quickly spoke again. "Did I?" Perhaps he shouldn't be so quick to rule out the possibility.
Hearing that he wasn't an easy patient made Rye awkwardly wear a lopsided frown, the other side of the frown was too busy being chewed on. What did he do? Or worse, what did he say?! The hotah wanted to know every word uttered from his mouth but with truth came the responsibility of apologizing and making up for his mistakes. That was a hard slice of meat to swallow, he could never do it right. Hell, he still hasn't apologized to Towhee for his fuck up. The world around him felt like an all consuming void that sucked up all the good and spit out the bad at him. For each reassurance Rye tried to give himself the void would take it and twist into a negative. There was no winning. 'There is no winning.'
''I'd like to add a little oak leaf to the mix, if you'll let me take a look."— Suddenly, as if she wasn't there before, Lane popped back into his life with a request. He looked at her, mild bewilderment in his eyes, shocked that he remained silent for an unorthodox amount of time and without much regard for Lane. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought— but, yeah, by all means do what you need to." Rye moved his back feet  from under his body and laid more on his good side. Even if it hurt to do so, all the cuts and bruises were still doing their thing, which was being annoying. He tried his best to mentally prepare for the ensuing pain but his thought processes kept getting derailed by his inner conscious. Rye had to ask, he had to know. "Lane, what did I do? I don't mean the accident, I mean how much of an idiot was I being to you, to Tzila?" Rye gazed into the distance as he asked, unable to look Lane in her eyes. Although Rye didn't have a clue on what he said or did, there was still shame already on his doorstep and it was knocking.     

Makes sense! I wrote in a quick sidebar for us to play out while we're waiting for the other thread to progress. Maybe Rye can show off some of his caregivery-ness. xD

Lane shrugged. No, he hadn't said anything directly about her pregnancy, but he had alluded to her condition as being the primary reason he was refusing her help. Granted, he was probably concussed when he said that. Brain injuries had a way of jumbling a personality-- in Rye's mind, he was probably being chivalrous and noble, while in reality he had just made everything twice as difficult. 

Lane began chewing the oak leaf, trying to work it into a pulp. Thankfully, she had collected the leaves the morning before the accident, so they hadn't had time to get too dry. 

How much of an idiot was he? 

"Um.. like half. Half an idiot, I'd say," Lane conceded, pushing the leafy pulp into her cheek so she could talk. "..The other half was actually making sense. You were mad that Tzila and I climbed down the ravine to help you, which makes sense. It was dangerous, and we are pregnant. But then your solution to that was running away and resisting help from us.. that was the idiot." 

Lane couldn't help it, she laughed. Rye's behavior had been distressing in the moment, certainly, but describing it now that everything was okay and he was safe, it just sounded hilarious. As she laughed, she inhaled a piece of leaf, which got stuck in her windpipe and caused the laugh to become a cough. Her airway cleared immediately after a cough or two, but the coughing triggered a series of other biological reactions. 

Her eyes and mouth began to water, and suddenly the taste of the leaf paste was intolerable. Lane spat the leaves out into to dirt, but the damage was done. She felt the saliva pooling in her mouth, and she knew she was going to vom. 

"Oh fuck," she murmured. She made it a few steps away from Rye before she lost her breakfast.

Ah, that reminds me. I absolutely need a medic thread for him to learn about a decently sized list of herbs that are useful for simple situations. If you're up for it that is! It can all be one thread, idm.

 

"Um.. like half." Lane said, the hotahs eyes widened. He hadn't expected her to be so— well, forthright. Rye had no room to complain, and he knew that, he asked for her honesty but it threw him from his seat still. By the end, her explanation had him silently agreeing with the rating of half idiot. Rye could guess why other Rye would have been resistant to receive help. Even then, as he laid there being tended to by the medic, he held a portion of disapproval for himself. 
As Lane began laughing, it spread to Rye and caused a healthy (and painful) chuckle of his own to begin, only to abruptly die as the medic began coughing.  A series of internal, 'Oh god's and "Oh shit's, fired off for each cough. Rye began to belly crawl closer to her but she had cleared her airway before he could do anything. He saw the leaf get spit from her mouth, and visibly winced. "Are you-" She puked before he could finish. The smell of acrid meat engulfed the receptors inside his nose, acidic and grotesquely powerful, it churned Ryes own stomach. His belly forbade him to look but morbid curiosity, and concern, chided him until he did. He gave in and regret was there to meet him as the bland colors of her upchucked meal assaulted his eyes. With all the visual and scent receptors going a haywire, Rye nevertheless found the will to not replicate what Lane did. "Are you okay?" The hotah belly crawled towards the medic, doing his best to ignore the excruciating pain. As well as the vom. "I can get you some water or something to settle your stomach. Don't tell me no just because I'm injured, only tell me what you need and I will get it." Although a leaf was the culprit for her lost meal, Rye still thought it prudent to offer help.      

Yeah! That would be a great way for Lane to be useful during her third trimester. xD We can start on a thread or series of threads, maybe next week? Once Lane returns from her walkabout? Return date is tentatively set for June 6th. 

Also, congrats on 300!!

Here she was, having an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, so of course Rye was here to witness it. He wriggled towards her, and Lane rested her forehead on his shoulder (his good one, luckily) for a moment, waiting for the world to right itself once more. Even after the dizziness and nausea passed she remained propped against his shoulder for a few extra, lingering moments, drinking in his scent and savoring his attention, his compassion... 

Selfish, Lane. Rye was supposed to be the patient here. 

He was full of questions and concern, and reluctantly Lane withdrew her contact, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I'm okay.. just.. do you think you could you finish the poultice?" Her ears flattened with humiliation. Some medic she was, making the patient mix his own medicines. But there was no way she could keep going with it, not with the taste it left in her mouth. 

Lane rummaged in her medkit and pulled out a couple of fresh oak leaves for Rye. She then began scraping dirt over the patch of vom and her half-chewed poultice attempt.

Okie! Let me finish up a thread or two before making another, trying to cut down on overall threads. And thank you! And, and, would this could towards Ryes medic trade even though he's mainly the one being treated? I would sight him learning how to apply a poultice as his learning point

Once again he was there. Lanes shoulder to rest on and seek comfort with. Rye didn't mind, actually he found it endearing he was trusted to be that shoulder. In an effort to ease her riled stomach, the hotah stayed perfectly still, or as still as he could manage. It wasn't until Lane moved herself that Rye adjusted too, this time favoring more support for the elbow he laid all his weight on. The agouti woman soon after asked him to apply the poultice by himself, but Rye wasn't on the up and up with his medical practice and would need a little guidance.
Rye gave a few quick, strong nods, "And how does one apply a poultice?" He asked before scooping up the leaves with his tongue and chewing into a mush. The flavors were more intense than he thought they would be, not bursting with flavor but certainly not lacking a unique taste of their own.    

I always count it when my own character is being treated, as long as they learned something. The only reason I wouldn't count it would be if my character was unconscious the whole time. Lane pretty much always narrates her process out loud, so any thread where she's treating someone could be counted as a medic thread for all the other participants. 

Lane still felt slightly lightheaded, though it was unknown whether this was due to her dizzy spell or the lingering effect of contact with Rye.

He began grinding the poultice, asking a question about the application process between chews. The question spurred Lane's distracted mind back to medic-mode. 

"How does one apply a poultice?" she echoed. "With help, I would think, when the wound is upon one's own shoulder." Awkward pronouns, awkward half-smile. 

"We'll remove the old bandage, clean, and recycle it.." She started, nosing around in the crook of Rye's armpit-area until she found the end of the bandage. She unraveled their work from the previous day, revealing layer upon layer of crusted blood. Perhaps this was not a bandage that would be recycled, after all. Buried would be better. "We'll let the wound breathe a bit, and clean it.." She made small and rapid, gentle yet deft movements with her dampened moss ball, blotting away at the site of the wound. 

"And now, the poultice." Lane spread a new cobweb bandage between her paws, indicating that Rye should spit his poultice directly into the center of the bandage. When he had done so, she would press the bandage lightly against his wound and begin winding.

Rye wanted to take mental notes as best he could. It didn't matter what it was, he was going to do his best to keep it locked within his mind. His eyes watched Lanes movements, tracing them almost, until she began removing the bandage. Blood had encrusted a few dozen hairs to the cast and as Lane removed her work it whisked the hair from their follicles, angering his fiery hot wound. Rye seethed through his teeth, biting back the urge to nip at Lane. Afterwards, the woman soothed the warm injury with the moss ball, earning a sigh of relief from the hotah. By then the leaves had been ground into a fine paste, their taste mostly gone but the grit stubbornly remained stuck to his molars. Lane asked for the concoction and Rye gently unfurled his tongue to release the paste into the cobweb bandage.
The ensuing bandaging was, as expected, painful but this time Rye couldn't totally keep his bad habit contained. Lips curled back quickly to reveal sharp canines, the top of his muzzle folded on itself to aid in flashing more teeth but the male caught himself before he could commit to any physically hurtful actions. Although his teeth were once again hidden behind lips, his hackles remained standing at attention. "I'm sorry, I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. I'm sorry. It's a fear response I guess? Maybe it's just the pain." He furrowed his brows upwards, trying to come across as sincere as he felt at heart. He hoped she was finished with the process.   

Want to wrap it up? There's plenty here for them both to claim a trade thread. <3 If you want to start on a more updated trade thread, Rye can help Lane bring down Wayfarer's fever.

Wounded wolves were likely to react in all sorts of ways, and Lane was no stranger to the aggressive response. She wasn't the most cooperative patient herself, when she was the one being patched up. Lane worked quickly, noting that Rye's patience with the process was waning. 

She wasn't quick enough, it seemed. Rye snapped, and Lane flinched away. He apologized just as quickly, and Lane replied a bit hesitantly, "It's okay. It's just your instinct." She gave a wag of her tail, trying to play it off. She didn't usually take it personally when a patient snapped, but this one smarted, since she was supposed to be giving a lesson. And, admittedly, because it was Rye. Playing nurse was not, in reality, as fun as it sounded in theory. 

Perhaps Lane would have been slower to forgive Rye's instinct, had she known that it would drive him into Imaq's embrace in three days' time. 

"I'll let you rest," she said with a tight smile, by way of wrapping up. She swept the spoiled bandages up and made to depart.

Yesss! I don't have much free time, so it may take a minute or two to get to it but thanks for this thread <3

Kind as ever, what would he do without the gentle soul that was Lane but if Rye did know her truer feelings, he wouldn't have let her go so quickly. "Thank you Lane, I truly appreciate all you have done for me." His thanks shared a smile, "I'll see you around." As the woman parted, Rye set his head on his paws and watched as his temporary caregiver wonder off into the distance.