Blackfoot Forest Foolish Protector act 2

There was nothing for Olive to do except lean into her all-consuming sadness and guilt. This was how this magnificent want was to end, torn apart and brutalized and left in the snow? It was not an end befitting her king, and the wastrel mourned for it. Tears fell freely, the heat of which evanesced into the permafrost. Her sobs came uninhibited, for the heaving and hitching and wailing was the only thing that abated the shabby feeling she felt in her heart. It was almost too much to bear.

Olive was surprised when the mass of muscle and bones moved and spoke, however feebly. The fact that he was alive made her feel no better, as now she was struck by the sheet amount of pain he must be in. At least in death, you were spared such torment and he might certainly die from wounds so grievous — but it seemed, at first, he must suffer.

“Shhh, shhh,” she cosseted, crawling ever closer in order to press her nose weightlessly against his side, in a place where there was no wound. I am here it spoke, and her twiggy forelimbs found their way under his head and neck in order to cradle and inspect the worst of his wounds. The druid folded easily into the role of nurturing healer — or, perhaps, palliative nurse — especially when it came to Dakarai. This was not the first time she had seen him like this, wounded and feverish and losing life, fast. His words were largely dismissed as the ravings of a man in the throes of extreme pain, and anguish, and wolves were prone to speak too freely when their soul was in the process of leaving the body. “You will not die,” she said in a saccharine-sweet tone, perhaps eerily too calm for the situation at hand.  “Remember? You never die.” It was less of a funny statement than the sheer truth. Hadn't all of his near-death experiences built him up into a man who could survive even this? “We must disinfect your wound. I must give you something for you pain…” Her head swung to and fro, trying see what supplies she had at hand, but winter had blighted most of the delicate herbs. These were slim pickings.