Dawnlark Plains From the scars on my arms

@Rala

As the dark-coated woman limped through the field and sat to her side, she wondered what she must have done for her luck to be so truly horrible. Her lower left leg slashed open by a nasty wolverine, she stared at the bleeding wound with disdain as the snow was painted red. It was nothing out of the ordinary for her; it would sting for some time, but soon enough it would heal and scar over.

Pain in the ass.. She grumbled, leaning down to lick up the blood. It had been her own kill - the damn thing should have hunted for itself. Usually Calfuray would have fought it off, but her travels had kept her far too tired.

In the past winter had been no issue, but this year circumstances had changed. Chased from her home, and further scared off by the bangs and attacks of creatures she could not see she had run north into territory she did not know. At the very least she knew of the threats her home held - but here? Here she was lost.

Lifting her head, her expression was sharp and knowing as she analysed her surroundings. She needed to rest, but the possibility of threats kept her cautious.

blood-smell thickened the air around rala, and so she would move towards it. perhaps she was not brave, merely foolish, treading the grounds without thought of risk or injury, but the weariness upon her face was telltale sign that she did not care. curious, and worried for the fact that the blood was that of a wolf, she continued across the plains.

words whispered towards her, akin to distant memories. pain in the ass, came a faraway voice, and so the snowwoman would move towards it with a clear precision. dark figure sat on the horizon, small dot moving upwards, watching and scanning. the woman moved forwards with a low tail, marking her lack of hostility to the stranger.

nanuralaaq would also let out a bark of greeting once she came within earshot. a quick 'i am not here to attack', before any misunderstandings could bloom. quick words were said, accented and decorated with northern decorum: what has happened?

The approach of another was not a welcome one, rather it was met with a snarl. The snow-coated woman in front of her did not appear a threat however, and so Calfuray did not move to her feet as she moved towards her. She was injured enough that she wouldn't if she could help it.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared down the stranger, as though to warn her 'I bite'. Wolverine. It got me good. Nasty little things they were. She lifted the injured leg from where it bleed in the snow, as though to put it on display for the other.

It really was starting to sting now that the adrenaline had wore off. Her brow furrowed as she found herself wincing.

but in a way, rala knew she was more than a fool, for she kept her distance when the stranger proved her lack of inclination towards the snowwoman's presence. a wolverine, she said, and the woman nodded. you should cover the wound, polar-cub advised. she was no healer, unlike her sister, tiri, but she had seen injuries such as this before.

airborne bacteria could make it worse. snow will help inflammation, nanuralaaq listed off what she knew with care, surveying the redness of the injury. winter would not help, although it's blanket may keep it cool. what she knew was that it must be washed, although it clearly would not be easy to walk upon. perhaps her aid would be permitted.

a sigh. i could help in covering - but i need to come closer, otherwise, what was she to do? leave her here, let her wound fester and rot? no, she would not allow it. perseverance was important, yes, but independence had never been a valuable trait within the cruelty of the north. it was reliance that had saved them from the deadliest of winters. togetherness, teamwork, partnership. and it will need washing.

please, allow me to help.

Her eyes were wary as they settled upon the stranger. She knew that the snow woman was right, but trust was not Calfuray's strong-suit; and yet she signaled her forward. You bite, I kill. Not a threat, but a promise.

She gave a careful sniff to her wound, the stink of the wolverine still harsh within it. You know how to care for wounds, then? So long as she knew more than Calfuray, what was what mattered.

Eyes lifted to check the surrounding tree lines, ensuring that this girl had brought nobody with her.

i would be suliaq to bite, a dry smile took place upon her features as she carefully ebbed closer, coming forwards like a gentle wave. my younger sister, tiriqaniaq, she is healer - taught by our anaanatsiaq, nuvuja, mother of our mother, her voice was a melodic, distracting explanation as she carefully worked snow into the wound. words intended to draw in the attention of that in which she tended to, rather than the sting of the injury. snow would slowly calm it, but the first touches of winters blanket would be cold ; unpleasant. patience was important, now. perhaps more than ever.

she continued speaking, now, as if her words were a song, a ballad of sorts, recalling a story: i, too, was intended to be healer, but i was then deemed forthbringer by my father, by his father. i was to be married off to bird-hunter - an alliance between tribes, paws gently massaged the wound, pushing the snow into it with a learnt precision, a taught ease. her expression was careful, watching herself work, but a faint smile was plastered upon her maw nonetheless, as if she had shifted to calm the demeanor of her patient. but i did not find him worthy of my children.

moving away, she surveyed her work. and now i am here. how does it feel?

She only stared as she spoke strange words Calfuray did not understand and told stories that she did not care to listen to. The snow stung, the cold momentarily discomforting, but it did help some.

The woman asked how she felt, and Cal could only grunt at first. Wet. I feel wet. Everything was wet in the winter. You talk a lot, you know? She looked to her with a raised eyebrow. Maybe she ought to be more grateful, all things considered.

Once more she took in the scents of the surrounding area. Did you come from a pack around here? She asked. It was better to get a sense of such a thing now rather than later.

i know, she smiled, then, at the stranger's audaciousness. her honesty that some may consider brutal. her curtness. rala raised a brow of her own, tilting her head with an edge that could almost be humour. my words were supposed to distract from pain.

and she asked, then, if she had come from a pack in the area. no, rala replied. i have yet to meet pack wolves. i come from much, much further up north, where all was cold, sheeted in thick, crunching snow, and the seas were black and raging. so far, snowwoman was enjoying these lands considerably more than she had her homeland.

and you? she asked. from around here, eh, stranger?

South. She spoke in response. A place where odd fleshy creatures walked about, and the bison thrived while Calfuray suffered underfoot the rest of the land. She was glad to be rid of the place.

This woman was rather strange, she thought. Though maybe the other thought her to be strange too. I am Calfuray. She offered her name - a common courtesy she thought. And you?

Eyes fixed to the other, she lifted her good leg to scratch at her neck - though the majority of her efforts hit the strange object wrapped loosely around her throat.

short replies from the injured woman. not only upon her leg, either, but as well as her limp ear - her single eye. rala had not noticed either at first, not until she had attempted to scratch at her leg, only to be met with ... a dark band, along with a buckle of silver. unknown to her. though what she knew was that it did not appear appreciated.

nanuralaaq, snowwoman answered, almost distracted, now, by what she did not know to be a 'collar'. she tilted her head, looking at it curiously, before asking: do you want it off? that ... thing? it surely did not look comfortable, polar-cub knew that much. how long would it be before it got snagged on something, and either choked the woman, calfuray, or snapped off on its' own accord?

what a strange little thing.

For a moment she only stared, as though confused by the question. Ah - this? She spoke, awkwardly turning her head down to look at the collar as she lifted a front paw to it. No, it isn't a bother. She had lived with it long enough that she did not care much.

Of all the things to be an issue for her, the collar had not been one. She didn't understand it's purpose, only that it was part of her now. Have you never seen one before? She asked, looking back up to Rala.

Where she had come from, not every wolf had one but she had certainly met a few in her lifetime. Most of the packs she had come across had at least one.

no ... i have not, she said, then, as if it were strange to even be asked. her expression could be described as 'dumb-founded', or at the very least, 'shocked', with a hint of disbelief. no matter how used to it one could be, rala did not think that she would ever be able to function with something holding up space around her skin.

curious, then, she continued to query: do you know what it ... is? what it does? what was the point of it if it did not serve a purpose? why continue wearing it?

snowwoman had many questions, and hardly any answers.

She nodded, a quick acceptance of the objects unfamiliarity in the eyes of the other.

I'm not too sure what it's for, but everything serves a purpose in some way or another. She responded I mean, it definitely makes it damn hard to get at my throat.

Yawning, she began to allow herself to relax. They were more common where I came from. Well, common in comparison to here at the very least.

i ... see, the thought of the wound had temporarily exited her mind, now. rala simply wished to figure out this strange object. although, what was there to know? the information seemed limited, so she would move away from it, now, scanning cal's leg.

does it feel numb, now? soon, dusk would be approaching. would the injured woman wish to sleep through the night with company? uncertain, though willing to ask, she said: would you like me to stick around? tail swaying gently behind her.

She nodded slightly. Admittedly, the wound was feeling a bit better. It'll still be a pain tomorrow, but for now it feels alright. She responded. You can stay if you'd like - the company could be nice.

Patting down the snow, she laid to her side. Calfuray spent most nights alone - she had to dig for the last time she had company.

She clicked her tongue as she pondered. The last one must have been Tayte, or was it his brother? She couldn't be sure. It hadn't taken long for her to get tired of either man and chase them off.

fade with your next post? <3

tell if you have any swelling ; redness ; stinging, she listed the possible signs of a worsening condition in an almost robot manner, should her tone not be melodic by default. tail swayed as she pawed a little hollow for herself within the snow, reaching the flattened grasses in a matter of moments. wake me, should it look bad.

and so she would curl up within her dip, only a tail-length away from her patient. nanuralaaq would not rest until calfuray did, and whether that took a matter of minutes, hours, or longer, she would keep an eye on the woman long before she dared to rest her head. looking out for her - it was merely her nature ; an attribute she had been born with.

She watched as Rala settled close by, somewhat disappointed not to be able to steal her warmth. Resting her head in the snow, she soon curled into herself and drifted into a light sleep.

Come the morning she would wake before the healer, taking her exit with a quiet sort of grace. Injured or not, Calfuray was never one to stay put. She spared the snow woman a brief glance as she went.