Lion Head Mesa dust

the wolves of ursus had their own scent.

it rose sharp and feral as tamar slunk in the direction of their encampment on the borders. the fearsome man with a single eye was there, followed by the others.

"i search for @Slate," she said breathlessly, searching among the details of the plain for who she wanted. "queen satsu has asked that you treat an injured wolf. in the palace," she added, a blink shuttering her lashes.

Slate had been lead to the encampment of the others of Ursus and she wasn't sure what to make of them yet. So she moved out of camp to collect plants and herbs. She had been alone for many years, suddenly being around others in this amount of number, was certainly a change. Probably not a welcome change. She collected web in the morning dew on sticks, knowing that it was an excellent tool for stopping bleeding wounds. Once she had several sticks with the sticky mass on it she began heading back to her place in the camp.

She had found a spot that was a bit off side from the others, kept her pouch and herbs she had collected there. She carefully placed the sticks into the ground to not make them touch dirt. It took some precision work, but she was used to that. She looked over her work and wondered if and when she would get to use it. It was itching inside of her to get to work, though war was not to be taken lightly. But being useful to these bear-cray crays was her new mission.

"i search for Slate." Her ears perked upon hearing her name. Someone was asking for her? How odd. The war had yet to begin. Was she in trouble somehow? She turned her sharp and narrow head toward the speaker and saw someone she could smell wasn't from Ursus. So not in trouble - yet.

"I am Slate."

She took a few steps forward to see what this stranger wanted. "queen satsu has asked that you treat an injured wolf. in the palace" A queen wanted her to treat someone? Well it had to be the queen of Akashingo ten for Merrick was leader of Ursus, and he had told Slate that his mate had been murdered. The entire reason for this war. Yes Slate was paying close attention to the things going on around her.

"I see. Let me gather my things." She turned around and collected everything she had. She didn't know what kind of injury she was supposed to treat, so she brought along everything. Including the web covered sticks. If she wasn't mistaken it seemed likely that it would be wounds. They were at war after all. She turned to the golden female again and nodded. She could lead the way.

the wolf with the name slate turned out to be an older woman.

with her, the woman brought curious objects. tamar took care not to stare at them. she set the same path back along toward akashingo. the maidservant wanted to ask if slate was the same to merrick. but she did not think it was so. merrick did not have commands for those around him. he was not like pharaoh, and he terrified tamar in a way that ramesses did not.

the girl led the healer first into the expansive anteroom where satsu and pharaoh received their guests. two hallways here, one curving into the tiny space that belonged to germanicus, and the other leading downward. the smell of flowers and berries and desire mingled here. tamar ducked her head and continued along the carved hallways of red stone.

there were many passages veering off to either side. theirs widened into the large bathing room fed by the underground springs. tamar took a left, mentally recounting now how she could find the room that was maggie's own. unfortunately, even before she and slate had entered, the syrupy scent of rot had begun to waft into the hall.

"i do not know why the queen has asked for you," tamar blurted, stopping abruptly. she did not want to enter. "the saints did this. many, many days ago." she sought to hold her breath, pale brown eyes widening. "she has lain here ever since."

Slate followed the golden female and wondered if all females of Akashingo were this beautiful. Slate had never considered herself beautiful, nor had any wish to be seen as such. It only gave problems for her if she was. Slate followed the female into room after room and her eyes darted around them to see every scenario around her. It was certainly astonishing and beautiful in its own right, fit for the royals. She felt more relaxed when she smelled flowers and berries and her tailed became less stiff. 

"i do not know why the queen has asked for you," The golden female had stopped and so did Slate. They had left the pleasant scents and instead, the air was rotting. The female did not seem keen on entering the room in front of them and Slate wondered just exactly what had happened to this mystery wolf.

"the saints did this. many, many days ago." That was not good.

"she has lain here ever since." Not good at all.

They had an injured wolf in their care, and rather than seek out someone who could help they had left this person to the state of decay? Slate's face turned into a rather unpleasant scowl. She dared not say anything as she was holding her things in her jaws and didn't want to drop them. Beside it seemed this woman was nothing but a servant, scolding her wasn't going to get the job done.

Without hesitation she stepped into the room to see what situation she was dealing with.

tamar did not wish to enter the room but followed all the same.

the servant padded nervously behind the woman slate. the poultices upon maggie's face were freshened and carefully laid. she indicated an organized set of herbs. "there is a physician here who has treated her each day. i —"

akashingo waited for this one to die.

she stood downcast but ready to aid the ursus wolf in any way. "skill cannot end sickness," tamar said softly, her pale eyes darting first to slate and then to the hardly-stirring form of maggie upon the raised stone bed.

the servant could not look for long.

Slate was not easy to gross out. In fact she was very fascinated with most gross things as it meant the discovery of new things, experimental ways to treat the sick. But upon seeing this very light wolf, listening to her breathe, smelling the decay, Slate knew it was too late. There was nothing anyone could do for this one. She took steps closer, looked upon her head wound, ignored the golden female speaking at first as she inspected the wounded.

She wanted to make sure before she made any rash decision.

Why had the queen called for her? Did she hope for some miracle? Slate was not magical nor was she superstitious, no amount of prayer could save a life already lost. It was cruel to keep this one alive, to wait for her to die here, by herself. Slate's face turned cold and into stone. She realized in this moment who the queen was. It had to be the blue-eyed one, the female she had met alongside Merrick.

She had seen and heard her talk about plants, specifically the dangerous ones. Slate's face softened. So be it.

"skill cannot end sickness," Slate snapped her head toward the golden female, her expression hard to read. Skill could end sickness, she had seen it, she had done it. But she knew what the golden one meant. "No. But skill can end suffering." She had placed her pouch on the floor before inspecting the wounded and now she opened it. She carefully selected a very large amount of black beans. Castor beans.

If this was not the reason the queen had called her here, this could get her in trouble. But she did not care. It was cruel to leave this one as this current stage, and Slate was many things, but cruel wasn't one of them. With a huge amount of care she collected the beans in her jaws, careful to not swallow or touch them with her tongue. She walked toward the white wounded female and placed the beans by her mouth.

She looked at the golden woman. "I do not expect you to stay for this. But I won't leave her." She wasn't going to die alone. Not on Slate's watch.

She nudged the beans toward the wounded female, wondering if she even was able to eat and swallow the beans. with a huge amount of care she placed her paw on the side of her jaws to open up her mouth. Then with her nose she nudged the beans, one by one, into her mouth. She watched if the female would chew and eat every single one.

Once and if the female did so Slate would place herself lying down, her nose touching the wounded female. She closed her eyes and listened to her breathe. She knew it wouldn't take too long before she would suffocate. An uncomfortable death to some, but it was the best Slate could offer with what she had in her pouch. Beside in her state it would likely not feel like much. She listened to her breathing in, out, in, out. Waited in silence and reached her paw out to touch the female, to let her know she wasn't alone.

Was this her duty? Was this really her calling?

She didn't feel sad, but angry. Angry that no one else had to guts around here to do what she had just done. It was unfair to the female, unfair to let her suffer for this long. "Many, many days ago" That's what the golden one had said. Slate's face hardened. It was obvious to anyone that the head injury would never let her live, not a normal life, not a dignified life. Her anger rose and flamed for whoever had kept this one alive, but she kept it inside of her. For now she stayed by the light female's side.

Until her very last breathe.

tamar did not know what would come next.

and yet she did know, and stood in silent understanding. the scent of the odd black objects was sharp and unknown. but they were not known to tamar. she watched in rapt and reverent silence, attempting to learn but finding herself only suspended in the moment, endlessly.

slate's movements were precise and tender. the servant girl's eyes welled with tears to see the practiced care with which the healer treated her patient. breath hitched in her throat, but she refused to weep. slate filled her eyes.

at last the golden maid understood, and then she did gasp. a single gulp of air. she shook her head. "i will not leave." she had no loyalty to maggie; she had not even known the woman. but who she was had shaped some amorphous future for herself.

was it dread?

tamar began to weep as slate put her paw upon the ending creature; silently, piously; she shuffled closer and gingerly lifted her own.

it was the healer who compelled her so. pale-tan eyes flickered to the woman's features. but there was nothing to be said. only waiting.

The quiet came like a creeping in her soul as her breathe became more and more shallow. She listened carefully and Slate did not know what she could do but comfort the dying woman. The golden female who had brought her here stayed, something that Slate had not expected. But she was glad she did. They waited in silence together, moments that felt like forever, but in reality were nothing but minutes. Slate lay in silence and listened to the silence that came.

The chest stopped moving, she could no longer feel or hear her breathe and she waited a few moments longer before she rose and with her nose she checked her pulse. Gone.

It was over.

She turned to the golden female now, and saw she was crying. Slate had spent so much time occupied by nothing and no one but herself. She had never been in a pack or part of anything but a short family that she soon left to set out on her own, socialization was not something she was used to and seeing the female cry made her realize how sad it all was. But this was also her job, her calling. She could not weep like the other, for it was not her place to do so.

She stepped closer to the living female, her anger almost forgotten at the very moment. She was at loss for words. She wanted to comfort her, wanted to tell her it was okay, that the dead were okay, she didn't even know her name but they had been through this together now, they were closer than she had ever been with another living being. Slate's gaze turned downward as she had no words for what she felt. She began packing up her things in her pouch and collected it again.

She turned to look at the golden one who likely had other things to attend to, a queen to report to, a dead to bury. Slate's eyes could not become tearful though her chest was heavy as stone.

Filled with sorrow and anger she took her leave.