Duskfire Glacier If we go down, then we go down together.

Around noon on the fifth day, Wayfarer began to fuss. She nursed only briefly, not as often or as vigorously as she had since birth. Her belly hurt to feed for much longer than a minute, and after this time she would cry out in attempt to communicate such discomfort. 

@Lane was sure to worry for how her newborn, who'd been thriving and especially vocal over the past week, had so suddenly started to refuse milk. She slept a lot, which was not unusual, but by sundown she woke with a fever and did not even attempt to suckle.

Lane noticed right away when her firstborn's feeding patterns changed. This was her whole world for the time being, and she knew the rhythms inside and out.

At first, Lane imagined it was the fault of circumstance. The last 48 hours had been a bit chaotic, since Tzila had given birth. Thankfully, the other mother hadn't made a huge fuss over her labor, so the traffic through the mothers' chamber had only really picked up in the hours after Wayfarer and Veteran's half-siblings were born. 

Wayfarer's appetite would probably return once the excitement died down. Meanwhile, Lane would worry over her daughter, licking her, sniffing her, and snuggling her, not unlike how she worried over her son all the time. The boy was so quiet, it was almost impossible to tell when he truly needed anything. For all that Wayfarer was dramatic, at least Lane always knew when she was happy and when she wasn't. 

...

Around the time that dusk was settling into the caverns, Lane noticed that Wayfarer was visibly shivering. She curled protectively around the pair of pups to shield them from drafts. Anyone who stopped to check in would be apprised of Wayfarer's status and then sent to gather lavender stalks from the meadow, as many as they could carry. Lane had also stopped eating and drinking herself--except for the borage leaves, which she was still forcing down at regular intervals.

Calling all caregivers! @Rye @Iana @Imaq if any of you would like a medic thread.

Despite the raging fires beneath her skin, Wayfarer could feel only the biting cold of her extremities. Her tiny body trembled and she whimpered pitifully, though the proximity of her care-giver who curled herself protectively around her brood did bring some small comfort.

Her belly ached, for it hungered, yet she continued to resist milk for fear of heightening the pain. Wayfarer's priority was to seek warmth so, entirely unaware of her dangerously high temperature, her simple baby mind urged her to snuggle in as close as she could.

Sorry for the holdup! <3 let me know if I need to change something about Ryes interpretation of Lanes explanation, or anything else. My brain has been cooking in this 100 degree heat!! 

Rye did his best to remain close to the dens but also let Winter have his time with the children. In the hotahs spare time, from not fretting over pups and mothers health, he familiarized himself with various herbs. From painkillers, to stomach settlers, stomach rumblers and then to refining his poultice mash. Once he saw Winter part from the dens, Rye would soon after swoop back in or stay outside and wait to be called on, (if ever). His recent departure from the dens was to soak a few moss balls in the ice melt, as well as collect more raspberry leaves and chervil for the sake of, 'just in case'.
Ryes approach was soft, he poked his head around the corner to check if Lane was sleeping but instead she was curled more tightly around her babes. The mother explained to him of the shivering ones deterioration, asking for a bundle lavender, as much as Rye could carry. He obliged, setting down the small medicine bag with the moss balls and extra medicine. His memory took him to the nearby meadow, the smell of lavender nearly sharper than the other scents, the hotah quickly gathered what he could within his maw. 
It wasn't long before anyone within the cave could hear the hotah approaching, his gait was a speedy trot. He laid the lavender beside Lane, staying quiet in case she would give another set of requests. His stature lowered, hawk-eyes fixated on the shivering pup with features drawn in concern. Sick adult wolves were stubborn and hard to care for in their own way but babies, their communication was zilch. That fact left a pit in Ryes stomach, the uncertainty of what was wrong only soothed by Lane seemingly already having a treatment plan formed. They were safe, food, water, shelter and medicine all guaranteed at the glacier. With the added bonus of multiple other medics with all vastly different experiences at their every beck and call. At that moment, more than ever before, did Rye feel eternally grateful Lane chose to stay.           

some pp here, yall lmk if i need to edit

Imaq slunk from the shadows, and her self-imposed isolation, when there was a pickup in activity within the nursery. This was not so uncommon. Most times when she went to habitually peep beyond her own cavern and check what was happening, it was typically only Wintersbane or Rye or even Iana tending to the two mothers and their young ones. Imaq was visited often herself, usually by Rye or @Iana -- who had also made a point of coming to check in now and then on all of the new patients. Imaq still ventured out, just not far from the Chambers and when she did come out of the whelping den she was building, she usually just curled up in the corridors somewhere near the other she-wolves' dens. 

When she spotted Rye carrying a large bundle of lavender towards Lane's cave, she grew concerned, however. The golden merle attempted to hurry towards the fallow agouti's dwelling, though it was more likely that her gait was somewhere between a shuffle and a waddle now. She slowed as she approached, making sure to let out a low, reassuring rumble of greeting as she stopped near Rye's haunch and peered questioningly into the den.

Hearing the tiny whimpers of the sick child, she felt the pitiful sound tug at her heartstrings -- a discordant note of anxiety echoing through her hollowly, as if she could hear the cries of her sons screaming through the blizzard in her ears even after all this time. "Imaq help?"

Rye was the first to return, with an enormous mouthful of lavender and Imaq in tow. Imaq looked like her own pregnancy was progressing quickly; soon they would have three litters gracing these caverns. 

If the circumstances had been different, Lane might have felt a twinge of jealousy, seeing Rye standing there next to Imaq, pregnant with his children. As it was, Lane was only grateful to have more help for Wayfarer. 

"Yes, thank you. If someone could go soak those moss balls..." Lane had taken the liberty of nosing through Rye's medkit while he was out collecting lavender. "..And someone could help me spread out this lavender... the scent is supposed to help fever.." Lane was skeptical about the true utility of inhalant medicine, but she was quite limited with her patient being so small. "She can't ingest any herbs yet, but maybe if I ate them...?" Lane looked to Imaq, wondering if she knew whether the healing properties of herbs could be transmitted through mother's milk. Borage was good for fevers and for milk production, so she'd already been eating plenty of that. She thought she might have seen some feverfew in Rye's medkit...

Anyway, stimulating Wayfarer's appetite was probably the most important thing. Increasing fluid intake was the most important treatment for curing a fever, and as of right now the child's intake was zilch. "I can't get her to drink," Lane stated, fear edging into her voice. Did the others have any ideas..?

Permission to skip Wayfarer!

The soft rumble hastened the hotahs heartrate causing a small chain reaction, first his tail swept the ground and then his head turned to greet the ivory woman with a smile. He knew her by sound alone. As Imaq offered her help, tawny eyes lingered for a moment on her features before returning to Lane. Her first set of requests had him beginning to part from the trio, grabbing up the medkit in his maw and heading for the melt water once again. It was a quick trip but not quick enough to hear what else Lane had to say, not that he could add a damn thing. All that he did was based on adult knowledge of illnesses or the guidance of another. The medkit was sat beside the agouti woman once again, heavier than last, water dripped frequently from the soaked bottom. "I added extras in there, perhaps you could gently dab a moss ball or two across his forehead? Manually bring down the fever." It wasn't a total shot in the dark, having survived a few fevers himself, Rye knew placing water or even snow over the forehead could help bring a temperature down. The only concern was if the new born would react volatilely to the change.   

so sorry for the wait on our threads yall! I just started working again and my schedule has been a little busier than usual.

She spared Rye a brief glance and smile before slipping into the den, her main focus being the sick pup -- keeping her shoulders curled and her ears lowered at all times even though she knew Lane wasn't likely to react with aggression, considering that she had invited them in after all. Soon enough the Hotah had set off with the moss, leaving Imaq to wordlessly nod and begin spreading the lavender stalks in a hemisphere around the top half of the whelping bed. 

When the question came, Imaq paused to consider. She had never heard of such a thing but the teachings of her mothers held to the belief that the connection between mother and child was sacred in a way wolves could never understand. As much as they could reason and learn to expect when pregnancies came and how they were caused, it was nothing short of magic that a woman could take a physical act of love (or lust) and manifest new life from it. Perhaps they didn't know if it would work, and perhaps they wouldn't understand why it did if they succeeded. Maybe they weren't meant to.

"Is worth to try, jah?" Imaq murmured softly, lips setting in a thin line of concern. She prayed then, silently, to the inua -- hoping that they inhabited this Glacier as they did the island, that they listened even here. 

"Burns too much to eat," she whispered, careful, as she stared down at the girl with eyes full of sympathy. She did not want to upset the worried mother. "We need cool Wayfarer first." She was grateful that Rye returned shortly after the words had left her lips, bringing with him the suggestion to dampen the child's coat.

She had a similar concern to the Kappa's, not wanting to make the feverish babe wet and cold. "Lane should hold her and wet fur with moss. Comfort and cool. Will keep her warm too, Wayfarer might drink then, jah?"

Her cracked gaze shifted between the two, as if to make sure they were following her broken syntax and were in agreement that it seemed like a good idea. She hoped that by having Lane snuggle with her daughter and dampen her skin with the moss as Rye had suggested, then it would help break her fever while also keeping her from catching a chill when it finally broke. Maybe then the medic might be able to get Wayfarer to nurse or at least drink some water. 

Lane nodded, her feelings of panic subsiding as Rye and Imaq quickly took control of the situation.

"Okay. Yes. ..Thank you," she murmured her assent after each suggestion, feeling a little embarrassed that she hadn't come up with the treatment plan herself. Mothers can't also be medics. Lane remembered hearing the phrase once or twice, but she was only now realizing what it meant. She was too attached to the children to think rationally, as loathe as she was to admit it. 

Lane accepted the moss from Rye, dabbing it all over Wayfarer to cool her body. Once she was finished, she tucked the girl against her belly to make sure her temperature didn't drop too much, and to encourage her to drink. 

"Do you think you could dab the moss on her, for me?" Lane asked, turning to Rye. It had been his idea after all, and she wanted to stay as still as possible herself to encourage the sick child to drink. She was also reluctant disturb her other child any further, and she silently willed Veteran to remain asleep in his current spot in the fold of her back haunch.

A rope of anxiety looped into a knot inside his belly, the little girl was as fragile as early winter ice atop a lake but Rye would do as asked. He nodded then withdrew a soaked moss ball from the kit, carefully and gently did he press it against her tiny forehead. Rye kept the pressure astoundingly light, knowing water could ooze from its fickle confines and cause the girl to aspirate on a droplet of water. He moved the ball higher onto the top of her head and resumed gently dabbing the water across the fur, not wanting to overdo the light soaking Rye pulled his head back and went to discard the ball. He didn't want to risk spreading what the pup may have to any others, although Veteran stayed with his sister it didn't appear to have spread to him. The hotah wondered if his body had already fought the illness off, a surprising outcome to him given the boy was the runt but stereotypes were always primed to be broken. "I can stay nearby throughout the night if her fever doesn't break this round of treatment, maybe consistency might be the key."     

You guys wanna conclude this one soon?  <3

The wetting of her furs was uncomfortable, a shock to the system, and she cried out. She wasn't warm, she was cold! She felt the bite of it all over her skin, and the soaking of her brow made her cry out in protest. Something smelled string in the air, something herbal and unusual, but coupled with the closeness of her mother it helped to soothe her fears.

Time passed, and thanks to the persistence of her mother and the other medics, Wayfarer managed a more restful nap. When she woke she was ravenous, yowling vigorously in demand - sure to disturb each occupant within the cavern.

ahh sorry for the wait again but last from me!

Imaq, having no more tasks to see to, settled back on her haunches to quietly watch as Rye whet the disgruntled pup. Wayfarer calmed shortly after the process and Imaq was glad to see that her protests hadn't woken her brother, who had somehow managed to sleep through the whole thing. The medicine woman took to crooning a soft hum in her throat, the hushed pitches and falls of the melody a type of healing song from her homeland across the sea.

Later, after she had left Lane and Rye with the young duo of Rhos, she would awaken to Wayfarer's shrill cries for food and grin with tired triumph before slipping back into a dreamless sleep.

It was a waiting game at this point. Lane pulled her children close, settling in for a long and sleepless afternoon. 

"Thank you," she said to both Imaq and Rye. "I'll call if we need anything," she said as Rye hung back for a minute. She was reassured to know that he would be nearby. 

Sleep would not come easy to Lane; she was far too worried and wound up. After what felt like years, Wayfarer began to cry and nurse, and Lane just about cried herself, she was so relieved. 

Her joy would be short lived, as it would only be a few hours before Veteran began showing symptoms, and the song and dance would start again. 

Fading here for us!