Phantom Hollow you can run

healing thread with @Atka Tsimshian

“To hell with this place,” he uttered, his teeth gritted before he spat at the soft ground below him, trying to rid the iron taste of blood. He was far enough now from the ash forest that he no longer felt he would be followed by its haunting resident, but he sure as hell didn’t feel safe here. Glowering as the afternoon sun stroked heat along the base of his spine, he idly wondered how he would make his way past the mountains in this state.

His current state being the blood that saturated his fur and the gaping wound along his hind, close to the tender flesh of his torso. He exhaled sharply, the adrenaline of fleeing beginning to ebb now as the pain began to cause his vision to become spotted His muzzle torn, his cheek bitten and bleeding—his very core ached, and slowly, the ebony wolf began to sink to the ground, finally finding some shade. He would need water soon—but first, he needed a moment to recoup. To gather his thoughts.

He had only meant to rest for a moment or two—but when his eyes closed, he was pulled into a feverish dream, and even in sleep, his lips would curl back, the pain emanating throughout his entire body.

Atka roamed the hushed forest once more. She chose to wander the areas bordering The Heartwood, not entirely comfortable meeting the others without Dreven. It was silent here, and Atka made sure to keep her steps light. The absence of noise was broken however. The sound was brief, and farther off than it seemed, but she was not alone in this still forest.

Atka's brows furrowed at the scent of blood, staring trail it left, littering the foliage. She assumed it would be a poor idea, but she followed the path of the bloodied wolf. Atka's head raised as the pungent smell had gotten more intense, her gaze flitted around until it landed on the resting figure, large figure that is. She reluctantly stepped forwards, ears pinning back as she tried to get a better look at the wolf. Noticing the extent of his injures, her unsure paws had felt solid on the ground.

❝Are you al-❞ Atka cut herself off, of course he wasn't alright.

She frowned, pausing as she looked over the deep wounds. He would not make it far without any sort of treatment.

❝Allow me to help you?❞ She said, voice soft, almost quiet.

Perhaps he would not wake up, if he didn't, she would try her best to tend to his wounds. She would have to make a hurried venture to the borders of this forest for any sort of herbal treatment, considering The Phantom Hollow was largely gloomy trees, moss, and graying leaves. Yet, per usual, Atka did not piece things together, failing to pair the extent of his injury to how close he was to The Heartwood.

He slept—his dreams elusive and shrouded, but it was a sweet and alluring voice that pulled him from them. If it had been a demon that had attacked him in the ashen forest, it was an angel that found him now, and Akavir remained uncertain of her actual existence, or a figment of his imagination.

He made to shift himself at her quiet suggestion, a rumble of pain hissing past his teeth before he exhaled sharply, adjusting to the pain. Champagne eyes grazed over her skeptically, his body giving another quiver from the searing pain from his haunch. “Who are you?” His tone was scratchy—a huff of air as his ears remained flattened to his skull.

❝I'm Atka.❞ She replied with a frown, wincing as she looked over the gaping wounds.

It had been a long time without the advice of her aunt, but she had her recollection on how to treat these injuries. Her eyes flitted around for something to keep the bleeding in check while she fetched something to conflict any infection. The Phantom Hollow did not lack cobwebs, she briskly worked to pick up a stick and pull the cobwebs from their refuge in between the large tree roots. Atka wordlessly applied the webbing to the wound near his hind, hopefully slowing the course of his most threatening wound. She pulled back to stare over the wolf with a face wrinkled with worry.

❝You're going to be alright.❞ If he was not in this shape, she might have told him to turn away from the forest of ash for his own safety.

Yet, she had no idea what direction he was staggering away from, still not imagining the wolf she held dear, Dreven, had participated in this fight. She assumed it was the wolf the stranger she briefly connected with, Sadey, had warned her about. Shaking her head, Atka glanced around, for something to apply to his wounds. Vegetation was scarce here.

❝I will be back in a moment, infection may end up being a far larger threat to you.❞ He was safe in this spot, at least she believed so.

Atka sighed at the wolf, offering a prolonged glance before she turned tail for the nearby stream. With a mouthful of moss, she dipped it into the water, hopefully to use it clean his wounds before applying any sort of polutice. With a shriek of relief, her tail wagged at the sight smelly plant across the stream that was rooted comfortably in the meadow.

❝Caribou Leaf!❞ Uprooting the plant, her mouth was full as she sought out the wolf again.

A usable amount of water still remained collected in the moss as she approached again, placing the collection at his side.

❝I advise you chose your fights more carefully.❞ She said, under assumption it was the cause of his injuries.

She nosed through the small pile of plants, waiting for any sort of reply or indication he was still conscious.

sorry this is so long got carried away :,)

She introduced herself—Atka. He made no comment more, for the petite dove was busy tending to his wounds, and he was still reeling from the situation he had found himself in once more. Pride and anger had gotten the best of him, and the ebony wolf huffed softly, wincing as she began to patch up what the Heartwood guardian had bestowed so swiftly.

Another grimace at her ministrations, Akavir could only offer a wry smile at her suggestion of choosing his battles more carefully. If I could make that promise, I would, he murmured, teeth gritting as he shifted slightly, champagne eyes steeling upon the wound she tended. I guess this is punishment for trying to close a chapter of my life.

The Mayfairs we’re spiritual in many ways, though his father had been skeptical. Witches… magics… after today, Akavir knew there would always be a lingering question as to whether his dead wife had sent some sort of hellhound on him. He leaned back against the tree now, releasing a slow breath and trying not to consider the possibility that Ibis had grown to hate him before her death. 

Do you believe in ghosts?

Atka busied herself chewing the weeds into a poultice as he spoke.

❝Hm,❞ She responded, muffled by the mouthful of herbs.

Do you believe in ghosts?

❝I haven't had any experiences to lead me to believe that.❞ Atka coolly said, she cleaned the wounds with the wet moss the best she could. ❝I knew a very wise woman who did though, and I was raised with many stories of them.❞

Discarding the bloody moss she spread the poultice onto the wound.

❝This might sting.❞

Atka sighed and pulled away, still frowning over the stranger's beaten body. After her prolonged stare she applied more cobwebs over the dressing.

❝It definitely seems like a punishment of some sort. If you're on your own what makes you think picking fights is very smart? Do you belong to pack?❞

He flinched while she considered his question, humoring him, perhaps, as she worked away on the damage he was equally responsible for on himself than the other wolf. Her words were gentle yet the sharp meaning behind them drew a small smirk to his lips—acquiescent to her valid point.

“No.” It was a simple reply, but given she was treating him with the utmost care, the solid man gave a small shrug, wincing once more from the movement. “I’m looking to stay across the mountains… but my wife…” He paused, his brows furrowing as he looked away, feeling stupid in that very moment. “I wanted to see the place she had died in once more. Looking for answers, I guess,” he offered, trailing off.

Atka paused her ministrations, glancing at him. Silence hung in the air for a moment as pity twinged in her gut. She was going to continue scolding him, but she didn't, only frowned.

❝She died... here?❞ Her voice didn't have the sharp edge it previously did, rather soft.

She continued tending to the dressing, wondering if he would need some sort of painkiller or sedative or if he would rather be alert. Instead, she ignored her inner rambling, turning her attention to reason this wolf had even gotten himself into trouble.

❝Did she pass in a conflict of sorts or sickness?❞ Part of her whispered that he didn't know, and that's why he was returning to her grave, but she paused.

❝You know... sometimes the answers we get aren't what we want. Whatever you found or will find, are- were you even ready for it?❞

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone gruff with the emotion of it, and he glanced upward—anywhere but at her. An exposed throat for her jaws should she seek it—he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“We don’t even know,” he continued, feeling almost robotic with his responses. Drilled time and again of what had happened to his Ibis, he had simply gone on autopilot during the questioning. Somehow, it felt easier with a complete stranger rather than friends and family. “She was found. She looked peaceful. No marks. No indications or smell to hint at sickness, or foul play… she just… She was gone.”

Finally, pale champagne gold eyes slid to her, considering her words. “I just want a tangible answer. Anything. Something.”

Atka sighed, taking a moment to think over his words. She couldn't imagine being told Dreven was just dead, not killed, not sick, just dead. She pulled away from his wounds, looking over her treatment in satisfaction. The pain was probably still blinding, and would probably get worse before it got better, but these injuries would not take his life.

❝I'm sorry.❞ Her voice was gentle, staring at him with a softened expression.

❝I hope you find your answer, but the truth is sometimes we don't get one. No matter how much we want it, sometimes there just isn't one.❞ She paused for a moment, her words may not be comforting, but they were true. ❝She is at peace now.❞

Everyone was always sorry—words he knew were meant with the best of intentions, but always fell a little flat.

Apparently, he had become bitter in the past year. As she finished up her ministrations and once done, the dark wolf rolled his shoulder back, hissing between his teeth at the ache before releasing a slow breath.

He couldn’t comment further on Ibis. His children. Everything that had become lost when life began to snowball.

“Thank you,” he offered, standing up slowly, champagne eyes seeking the warmth of the unknown healer with a gentling expression. “For this. I don’t imagine I deserve it—but thank you.”

❝I'm glad I could help.❞ Atka nodded, still looking over his wounds and how the treatment held as he stood.

❝Are you sure you must leave now? You should be resting.❞ She was still completely oblivious to his opponent, brows furrowing as he winced in pain. ❝The wolves of the ash forest are not the most friendly, but you are safe here.❞

She took a step back, giving him some space.

❝Well if you must go, take the rest of this plant. Chew this weed and put it over your wounds if you can.❞

‘The wolves of the ash forest are not the most friendly…’

It was a bit of an understatement, but Akavir kept his poker face in place. If she knew of the vague claim, she could very well run with them. “Yeah, I definitely need to get going,” he reiterated, eyes flickering back to the distant mountains. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and this place as possible—and it had nothing to do with the wolves of the ash forest. He would have dealt with the red-eyed guardian of the forest time and again if in some twisted way, it could have patched the other pieces of his life together.

“Thank you, again,” he reiterated, eyes sliding back over her. She offered him the rest of the plant she had treated him with—instructions given. “If you find yourself in the Rising Sun Valley, I’ll repay the favour somehow,” he informed, almost certain it was a terrible idea to give way his travel plan to the unaffiliated she-wolf.

Probably, because, he suspected she wasn’t quite unaffiliated.

With that, he bent, holding back a grimace, gingerly taking her offering and beginning the trek away from the woods, as best he could. Toward the mountain—away from the lands that time and again inflicted nothing but injury.

She sat down as he responded, clueless to what was prompting him to depart from the area so soon. She had no regrets to aiding this, adrift wolf it seemed, victim to his rage and grief. Perhaps now he had closed the door on searching for answers on his wife's passing and the agony that followed. If not, she wouldn't blame him.

Atka nodded her head at his thanks.

❝Farewell.❞ She hadn't gotten his name, but it didn't cross her mind as he pulled himself up, wincing in reaction as she watched.

Atka didn't answer to his offer of returning the favor, simply nodding again. He did not need to, what her aunt had taught her was not to sit disregarded in her mind. Even then, he seemed to be in a dark place in his own mind where kindness was needed to draw him out. She thought of her aunt in this moment, a distant sorrow creeping at her, wishing the woman could see her teachings in practice.

She remained where she sat for a moment, watching his figure becoming smaller with distance before sighing and dispersing from the area as well.

last from me, thank you for the thread <3