Blackwater Islands nox arcana

Alright.

Bridget sensed that this man had become her responsibility now. Maybe that was in her own mind, but either way, she'd claimed him. She would do her best to see him through and that task began now.

Some patients thrived being left alone, others seemed to respond well to presence and attention. So far he'd fallen in the latter category and Bridget would proceed armed with that knowledge.

She lay down and gathered him against her, his back resting against her side, his head supported and held upon her forelegs. Alright, Harka. Looks like I'll be staying here for a while. If she couldn't cool the fever, perhaps she could help him to burn it off.

They were entering a waiting game now. Assuming the Listener wouldn't stick around, Bridget began to groom the man's pelt, beginning at his forehead and working back towards the hips. With any luck the familiar feeling would help him to slip into a more natural sleep, but at the very least it gave her something to do to pass the time.

Combing her tongue through the rough fur of his forehead, she recalled Towhee's words to her. Can't help but think you'd make a great mom. Fuck, she couldn't blame her, but Towhee really didn't get it. Taking care of her - taking care of him - it wasn't quite the same. She would heal him, or she wouldn't, and either way the job would be done. It wasn't the same at all.

She waited until the Listener had departed behind her, then sighed and lowered her head to rest on the man's shoulder, rising and falling gently as he slept. If she drifted off, it would be light, and any change would wake and alert her that something was wrong.