Moonspear from a black widow's reckoning, your fortuitous spine

Day by day, he was healing. Slowly but steadily, recovering just as the land now did from the trauma the earth had wrought upon them. Lyra watched over her nephew keenly, rarely leaving his side in those first fragile couple of days. The wounds were not so deep that they would leave disfiguring scars, but she was still worried about infection and damage to the muscle underneath.

However, @Osiris was his mother's son; he was a resilient young wolf. Lyra was certain he would pull through, and would be all the more stronger because of it. That did not stop her, though, from hovering near him, ever watchful. Her head rose as she heard movement from inside the den where he had been sleeping since the attack, and in a split second Lyra went from resting to on guard. Peering into the darkness, she let out a gentle cooing sound for the boy to coax him out.

The majority of Osiris' wounds laid beneath his flesh and bones; it was challenging to navigate these new, cynical feelings. Not only was he plagued by negativities, but migraines as well—a byproduct of the trauma to his head. Feeling more alone than ever, he isolated himself and spoke only out of necessity. 

It was mid-morning, and a warm cannel of sunshine swept through the living area. It stirred Osiris from his slumber, and against the light, he blinked slowly against the light's sudden presence. Lingering in bed, as he slowly woke, he heard Lyra's cooing from beyond the den's entryway. Quietly, he whuffed in reply to assure her that he was alright. Taking his time, Osiris slowly pushed himself onto all fours and shook any stray bedding from his pelt before heading out. 

The sunshine was even stronger outside, and Osiris winced at its intensity as he exited. Then, once he was somewhat adjusted, he moved to bump his snout against Lyra's chin in greeting as he mumbled, "Mornin'"

A quiet whuff emerged from the darkness in reply, and Lyra's tail waved in relief as she backed up a few paces, eager for her nephew to emerge. It took a few moments, but finally he did so, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. As he touched his nose to her chin, the medic gently licked the top of his muzzle with a rumble of affection.

"Good morning," she said softly. His mumbled words had become somewhat of a common occurrence; where before Osiris would greet each day with bubbly enthusiasm, he now was more subdued and quiet. Lyra hoped it was only a low mood caused by his needing to be confined to the den. Gesturing for him to walk with her if he could, she asked with concern, "are you feeling any better?"

"I'm doing fine," Osiris replied; there was nothing worth noting to talk about, he believed. "Though, I do wish that I didn't wake up so late—it feels like I've already wasted my day." Osiris had usually risen with the sun and had been most active during the day. But now, as he had been healing, Osiris had felt more tired.

Curious, he then asked, "How are you, Aunt Lyra?" She had been working day and night to keep him well; her wellbeing was just as important as his.

His sombre response caused her brow to knit together in concern, but Lyra resisted the urge to groom him once more, as if it would do something to ease his discomfort. Though she knew his uncharacteristic lethargy was something that only he would be able to heal. Herbs and support could only do so much — it was up to Osiris to overcome this dour state he had gotten himself into.

"Do not feel too bad; so long as you are well rested," she soothed, knowing half the pack were creatures of the night, regardless. He would never be without company upon the mountain, no matter what time of the day.

At his own question, the Ostrega was slightly taken aback; unused to patient's asking about her own health. She relished the opportunity to vent when it was Hydra or Alya asking, though all others were only afforded a curt reply. To Osiris, though? "Oh, I'm doing...well," she replied, her stoicalness faltering for a moment. "I — we — have just been worried for you."

Osiris nodded in agreement—he was well-rested. That, at least, he could be thankful for. 

When Lyra replied, Osiris' posture wither; he had not meant to cause concern to those he loved the most. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, averting his gaze. "I don't want to make anybody feel sorry for me, or anything," a sigh followed his statement, "I'm... just not used to relying on others and being a waste of space." Osiris felt useless.

He shrunk back at her reply, hunching his shoulders boyishly and avoiding her gaze. Lyra sighed before leaning forwards and swiping her tongue over his forehead once more, a soft, gentle growl escaping her throat. "Do not apologise, Osiris," she said, tone stern but tinged with warmth. She hated to see anyone in her family so down on themselves, let alone those she helped raise. "Relying on others when you are injured is what family is for. Besides, you will never be a waste of space; I'm sure Dirge, and your mother and I would not allow that."

A wink followed, before Lyra padded forward, motioning for him to follow. "Come, if you're feeling up to it, perhaps we can track down some food," she offered, hoping an easy hunting task would help take his mind of feeling like a burden.

Lyra was able to speak some sense into Osiris, and although bothered the truth—as he was enjoying his mini pity-party, he accepted it. Nobody on Moonspear would allow for him to be a waste of space. "You're right," Osiris admitted. "It's just... hard," he huffed; teenaged angst was strong with this one. "I don't like feeling this lame." His pride had also taken a hit; he had only wanted to protect his family, and he had failed miserably. 

Osiris was thankful for the Lyra's suggestion, and he nodded. "I'd love to," he agreed with a clack of his jaws. Easing up onto all fours, as getting up too quickly had given him headrushes as of late, he then strode after Lyra.

Of course I am, Lyra thought smugly as Osiris admitted she was right. However, his next hesitant words were hard to hear, and she was torn between wanting to comfort him and wanting to scold him. Her patience for her cousins was longer than it was for most others, but it wasn't unending. Thankfully, he perked up at her suggestion of a hunt and eagerly accepted. She waited for him to catch up, before beginning a purposeful walk towards his old den.

"There have been some foxes lurking about the den area," she said, suddenly serious. While she hadn't seen them with her own eyes, she knew they were around; both by the horrid scents they left and by Hydra's own words. While her twin had taken care of some herself, Lyra knew the creatures were both crafty and numerous. Plus, it wouldn't hurt for her nephew to get some practice in taken down some of these pests.

"Have you ever hunted fox before?" the woman questioned, looking to Osiris expectantly.

For now, in light of Lyra's report, his troubles were forgotten. The news of the fox came as a surprise to Osiris, and promptly he shook his head in reply. "I might have," he replied then, recalling the weird-looking coyote that he and Atlas had hunted. "They kind of look like coyotes, right? Atlas and I found a red one in the glen some time ago—but I'm starting to think it might have been a fox and not a coyote." He had learned many things since then, and now questioned their judgement that day; had he hunted a fox?

His words were met with a small nod as Lyra listened, her notched ear twitching as he hinted for her confirmation. She was glad he and Atlas ranged further than just Moonspear on their adventures, though selfishly hoped they hadn't acquired the Ostregan wanderlust.

"They are similar to coyotes, though are smaller and twice as quick," she explained, her muzzle wrinkling as she spat the last words. They truly were vermin. The reason she wanted them gone from the den was in anticipation of her sister's pups; no living creature (besides herself and Alya, of course) would be allowed anywhere near it during those first precious weeks).

"They are as cunning as coyotes, though, and with pups on the way it'd be best to rid our home of them."

"Why do we need them out before the puppies come?" Osiris asked, his face wrinkling in distaste. Pausing to reflect, he then considered why they were a threat. Once he put two-and-two together, his expression sank. "Wait. Do they eat puppies?" he asked, still confounded by the thought.

As they walked, Osiris questioned Lyra, though before she could reply he came to the answer himself. She approved of his expression of disgust with an amused smile, before nodding. "Some do," she said, features hardening once more as she looked up the path they were headed. They were close to the den now. "Or they simply kill the pups while they are vulnerable. Less competition for their own young," Lyra explained, perhaps not entirely correct; she had never really bothered to question a fox, nor did she think she would ever have the desire to.

"That is why we must get rid of them," she said with a tone of finality, coming to a halt as she looked to her nephew with an expectant gaze, wondering if he had any other questions before they started their hunt.

Osiris agreed with a firm nod, not having to mull over the information for long. They'd have to work together to get rid of them, but he was confident of their ability to do so. Although, before they began, some questions came to mind. 

"Have you ever dealt with a fox?" he asked. "And if you have, how did you deal with it?"

"Many times," she replied to his question. "With your mother and Alya." It was both quicker and easier hunting with her sisters, of course, but she would not deny her nephew this important task, as well as his chance to learn. She nodded towards a small turn off their path, and led the way to where the den lay. Soon, Hydra would be cooped up in there, looking after the newest generation of Ostregas; her and Osiris' job today was to ensure their safety.

"They are quick, but you just have to be smart" Lyra explained, raising her nose to test the air. The scent of the vermin was definitely here. "And patient." She added as an afterthought, though Osiris had proven himself so far to be as patient as he was obedient. She motioned with her nose for him to follow her lead. "Come, there is a cache nearby, we can lure them out with scraps as bait."

Osiris was not surprised by Lyra's response; Hydra, Lyra, and Alya frequently worked as a team. He had observed them in action on several occasions and believed that they were an unstoppable force. Noting the offered advice, Osiris followed Lyra down the small turn in the path. 

Testing the air as Lyra did, and quickly recognized the stench they sought. His face wrinkled in repugnance; why did they have to stink? "What's the plan after we lure them?" Osiris asked, already thinking a step ahead.

Lyra taught Osiris how to lure them—a technique he'd use moving forward. They worked for as long as Osiris' fatigue allowed, clearing away any threats that strayed too close to Hydra's whelping den.