Ankyra Sound i thought i was smarter as i flew into the sun

keeping vague considering outcome of their raid, but set for the day after! Plz excuse the aggro-crag phas dialogue kek 

"phah," the slyph snorted, exhaling bloodied phlegm onto the dark sand. her wounds were not trivial; their nights' excursions had resulted in a stiff-bodied ache that persisted well into morning, and while the blood had long since crusted around her neck and tattered ear, it was evident the range of motion her neck afforded was gradually stiffening to a close.

they had lost one during the raid -- the hard-headed eurycrates that had forged his own bloody path into oblivion. mistakes were made, caiaphas thought with a grim wryness -- but his martyrdom had afforded them an inner glimpse of drageda's forces. so he had not died in vain -- or, maybe he had -- the sylph had seen enough of wars to know better than to grow sentimental.

it was a travesty in of itself that the entire of her fleet returned from their failed raiding party -- harmed, but alive -- this more than anything told her the nature of the wolves they were up against. glancing up at the stone-faced cliffs, caiaphas felt oddly reassured. even her stupid daughter had made it back, as unseasoned and unintelligent as she was. now that they knew what they were facing, the looming presence of war seemed less of a threat and more of a treat -- a small group of helter-skelter juveniles and piccaroons had marched into the hearth of a powerful army outnumbered and inexperienced -- and somehow, miraculously, had returned home. master warrior that caiaphas was, she hardly needed war-hounded experience to figure out that their enemies were simply average wolves, occupying an average escarpment above them -- and average wolves tended to be quite easy to kill.

the matter of rosalyn's whereabouts remained unknown -- caiaphas was disappointed in their failure, but not defeated. she would likely find erzulie later that day, and discuss with her their future schemes.

powerful warriors, my ass -- the sylph sneered (more of a grimace) as she roughly applied sodden seaweed to her neck, languishing under the arc of the grotto as if ankyra's resident gargoyle.

Caiaphas had been front and center of Rosalyn's redemption—Wyatt, unlike the Siren Queen, had been situated amongst Rulska's crowd. Today, much like the Caiaphas, Wyatt recovered from the battle that had ensued. 

Like a ghastly shadow against the phlem-like sand, he traveled stiffly. Wyatt was unskilled in general—though he was learning quickly from the school of hard knocks—and had no idea how to address the wounds that littered his body. Tux had done a number on him. 

In time, Wyatt spotted Caiaphas in the grotto in the distance; he immediately tucked his body close to the shoreline. Although he wasn't sure that his presence would be welcomed, he was intrigued by the manner in which she clothed her neck. Wyatt observed the Alpha at a distance, like a creep.

the wretch winced as the damp weed settled into place. the brine stung, but she knew the sea’s many merits - it would be some time before she was comfortable, but eventually this wound too would heal. 

in her peripherals she saw wyatt’s bent form, his shadow betraying his presence. shifting upright with a grunt, the crone fastened her yellow gaze on him as if to pointedly say how transparent his lurking was. need something? her voice was strained by her wound’s heavy effect, but lacked any venom.

Unsurprisingly, Wyatt was detected. 

Although Caiaphas' question was simple, he hesitated. "Kinda," Wyatt replied as his ears flattened. "I got beat up by that Drageda kid," he admitted, his voice quiet, "And I don't know how to make it better..." 

As he trailed, a salty sweep of ocean wind buffeted the coast and caused him to winch. Feeling tears gather in his eyes, as the sting of his wounds was remarkable, Wyatt dropped his gaze to the ground; he didn't want to appear as weak as he actually was.

the siren’s gaze raked across wyatt’s lean figure, taking in the raw and raised wounds that marred his hide. shifting upright with a sharp inhale, caiaphas motioned for the boy to follow. 

first - a wound must be cleaned. the matriarch counseled, her bony form making for the surf. it will be cold — but a wound can not heal if it is not properly cleaned of irritants. go, her narrow muzzle canted to the rising waves, and she shortly shook the cloak of kelp from her hide and stepped into the water’s lapping edge.

Wyatt nodded as Caiaphas instructed him, and moved stiffly to met her side in the rising surf.  Once alongside the matriarch, Wyatt directed his to go into the water. He avoided eye contact and looked to the ocean with a look of bewilderment; surely there had to be another way to mend his injuries? 

"A-Are you sure?" Wyatt asked, and his tail tucked between his ankles. "It looks pretty bad out there," he elaborated. To Wyatt, everything about the ocean was scary—especially swimming in it.

the boy had some trepidation about uniting with the current. caiaphas’ needle thin nose contorted into a scowl, and she looked to the riffling water with an expression of feigned consideration.

as if re-evaluating her command, the siren shifted away from the water. hm, no. caiaphas answered, a counterfeit tone of concern in her voice. it is bad. she delivered an in genuine smile, a smirk skirting the edge of her lips. let’s try something else.

while the boy was likely distracted, caiaphas slammed into his frame with sudden and overwhelming force, her intent to fling him clear into the surf’s pounding waves, and hopefully wash some sense into him in the process.

grinning cheek to cheek with a devil’s mirth, the sylph examined her work and then slipped artfully into the water, allowing the waves to lap nearly up to her ears as she watched for wyatt’s reaction.

Relief was an understatement about how Wyatt felt about Caiaphas' re-evaluation. "Oh tha—" without warning, his appreciative response was discontinued as she slammed into him. His attention had lingered on the shaky horizon, giving the Alpha a window of opportunity to do as she pleased. 

The impact sent Wyatt flying through the air. He had no time to conceptualize what had just happened; he landed as quickly and unexpectedly as he had been launched. Wyatt felt the chill of the ocean and the sting of the salt as soon as he sank. Although he was disoriented, he knew what he had to do[madash]he had to flail until something happened. Expending a majority of his energy from the get-go, Wyatt's paws churned frantically in an attempt to resurface.  

He re-emerged with vengeance, and he gasped loudly as the bite of the breeze hit him. With evident panic written on his face, Wyatt looked around wildly as he looked for Caiaphas.

hah - bitch. the siren smirled to herself, her face insufferably smug as the boy struggled and gasped beneath the beating waves. oh he was being dramatic -- she shuffled into the brine and held her muzzle to it, inhaling the sting of salt with a quiet fondness.

"see? not so bad. quit being a baby. sit. it will sting but it will not be the worst thing to happen to you." she slid down so that the water lapped at her neck again, her cold gaze seeming to infer her imperious command.

Wyatt's flailing had initiated a sharp pain in his ribs, and he screeched. He had never felt anything like it, and wan't quite sure what was going on with his body. Naturally, he blamed the sea as it was the only logical explanation that he could conjure. 

When Caiaphas spoke, Wyatt took offense. "I am not a baby," he shot back, and slowly dragged himself closer to where she laid. The water was much more shallow than he had initially suspected. Once he was near, Wyatt sat and waited for her next instruction.

the boy screamed -- not exactly the most manly thing one could do in front of company, but caiaphas was rough around the edges herself, and simply acknowledged the shriek with a grim sigh. he had gotten the wounds on her behalf, and the least she could do was help him heal. and maybe make him a better warrior so next time he killed some enemies, instead of peeing (and reinforcing their claim).

so, he wasn't a baby. caiaphas smiled balefully back (her author half wanting to MoCkBoB but knowing better), designing ways in which to manipulate wyatt into bending to her will. "hm, my mistake - seems you are not, despite the scream moments ago," she nosed the lapping water in contemplation, looking over wyatt's form as he padded closer. "babies do not tend their wounds. they have their mothers do it for them. where does it hurt the most?"

"That's right," Wyatt thought sourly, "I'm not a baby." 

When asked where he hurt, Wyatt considered his aches and pains briefly—he wanted to make sure that he didn't miss anything. "It's mostly in my chest," he replied, realizing that even talking was irritating. "My sides hurt, and I'm pretty sure that kid got me good on my chest." Wyatt wasn't entirely aware of the damage done since the wound was out of sight.

the sylph continued to be pulled by the waves, allowing herself to drift ever so slightly as wyatt recounted his wounds. her gaze went from his sides -- which, outwardly, appeared fine -- but the gash on his chest gave her some pause.

nothing the sea couldn't help with, she decided after length. "okay, so you are sore." as for the boy's sides, caiaphas rose her dripping head above the water and frowned. "do this -- " she threw her head back, a low howl pressed from her throat -- and then just as quickly, finished with a snap. if the action hurt wyatt considerably, caiaphas would have her answer -- naturally at the expense of causing poor wyatt some physical harm.

Wyatt nodded again—too sore he thought, but kept mum. He didn't want to risk being called a baby again. Wyatt then watched as Caiaphas' demonstrated what she wanted him to attempt. He didn't like the look of whatever it is she did but, he obliged. Throwing back his head, Wyatt forced out a weak, hoarse wail. As instructed, he abruptly ended the call. 

Pain ensued, and Wyatt yelped sharply. That hurt.

well; that settled it. with a look dangerously close to satisfaction (that she had solved the puzzle, ofc, not that she was satisfied she had hurt poor little wyatt), caiaphas rose from the water and gave her pelt a careful shake. glancing back at the boy, she frowned. "your ribs are broken." there was little to be done besides wait, but she would spare him some detail considering he would have to live in agony for the next several weaks.

"no jumping," she instructed, thumbing a canine with her tongue. "else the rib bone might break and go clean through you - puncture you like a porcupine quill, it will. no running. no yelling. no doing anything, that any sort of kid your age would do. if it hurts, you stop and rest. if you do not, it will take longer to heal. you understand?"

His ribs were broken?! Wyatt shot a bewildered glance towards his ribs. "B-Broken?!" he repeated, his voice cracking. Caiaphas elaborated then, disclosing all the things that he shouldn't do; Wyatt was fearful about how his injury would affect him. When asked if he understood, Wyatt nodded. "I do..." he replied, unmistakably reluctant. "But... if I can't do all of that... what can I do?" he asked. 

Could he do anything?

of course, the news of his body's internal injuries distressed the boy. caiaphas allowed him a moment of shock, and then allowed a second, longer moment to go by for him to collect himself.

her expression was grim as she nodded, but there was no hopelessness in her gaze. "mmhm. you can breathe. take it day by day. these things heal remarkably fast. faster than deep cuts anyway. just.. no playing rough, okay?"

"Okay," Wyatt promised, "I won't play rough." This commitment was one that he was confident that he could keep; it had been months since he had last roughhoused with Lucas. 

Wondering if there was anything else he could do in the interim, Wyatt asked, "Is there anything else that'd make it better today?"

he acquiesced to her request, something that caused a familiar rumbling in the coywolf's chest -- it was a maternal tug, she supposed, that made her feel suddenly so fiercely protective of the black cub.

she shook her head in decline, feeling the purse of her lips. "nay - these things take time.. only the tincture of time can heal bones. surface wounds we can treat, cheating time of its long process by putting balms upon them to bind the flesh and encourage new growth -- but bones, bones are deep within us and there is no getting to them, save to flay you open."

Although discouraging, Wyatt found Caiaphas' explanation intriguing. "Balms?" he asked, tilting his head. "What are those?" (insert WHAT ARE THOOOOSE vine here)

it did not occur to caiaphas that the boy would not know what balms were -- she paused, examining him in the way a village elder might inspect a child of his tribe, but not his -- was his mother that neglectful?

no matter, she was his mother now -- and she would see to it he was raised right.

"a balm is a mixture, or compound if you will, of herbs that helps ailments heal. sometimes it is made with moss, and sea kelp, and other things -- thought i have heard tell of brave souls that use honey. how they acquire honey from its nest, i have no clue -- these are inland tactics, and no bees live on the coast that i know of."

"Interesting," Wyatt mused to himself as he considered the information that Caiaphas had given him—he was intrigued, to say the least. "Is there anything on the shore that's like honey?" he asked, and then realized: "I don't even know how honey works—but it seems helpful."

there were many things the sea offered -- but honey was not one of them.

nearest that caiaphas could tell, the strange liquid slugs expelled might have come close in consistency, but certainly not taste.

"there is a method you can use, grinding dry kelp with crab shells and sea-pods. it will make a paste -- it has good healing properties, but a terrible taste. best used as a salve rather than eaten. but no, there is no honey of the sea." she gave a weary shrug, thinking little of honey anyway.

caiaphas spoke more on the matter of healing, what little she knew anyway, until the sun began to simmer behind the horizon. guiding wyatt home, she administered kelp to his sides evenly, and bade him goodnight before returning to the grotto to collect new herbs.