Bearclaw Valley interim

elated, he held still as evien worked. he was ever-mindful of the doctor's skill; merrick was not nearly as attuned to plants or their nature, and so saw the alchemy of magick in the profession. he was obedient as the patch came, enjoying the close nature of the minor dressing. had he been so close for less than love or violence? the madman did not know.
"never thought i'd know a doctor," the bearwolf remarked in a low grunt, suddenly feeling the ache of the toothmark that evien had addressed. his face, ripped to shreds — could vanity ever reign again? and yet, it must.