Northstar Vale Right Beside You

“Hold still,” she whispered gently, and thus began her work. Meadow had treated enough quill wounds to know they could fester easily—and she worried any might break if great care was not given in their extraction. Nervousness fluttered her heart, but she tried to work steadily, maintaining a firm grip and feeling even herself flinch at times when she knew it would be excruciating.

The blood trickled freely down his face more and more as she removed them. Finally, with one more gentle tug, she freed the last of them, after what felt like forever. It was hard to keep the concern from her eyes as she studied him, and standing up straighter, she gave a gentle roll of her shoulder, an idle stretch and then a nod toward the brush. “Come, we need to clean it,” she offered even more quietly—the growing laughter only moments before now quieted by the current scenario.

She didn’t wait for him to answer—her svelte form simply took lead as she began to lope toward a small stream she knew of, stopping only to pluck the softest moss she could find along the way.