The Sentinels heart in hand

AW but @Deirdre will be making an appearance.

Foggy – it was what his mind felt like, and Constantine seemed to propel himself quietly through the tall sequoias’ in a light daze. He limped now – only the day before when trying to fish, the yearling had cut his forelimb on a sharper rock within the waters, and the wound now not only festered, but refused to heal. Pus oozed from it now, and a shudder surpassed the Mayfair as he felt a chill pull at him.
 
He was no medic – he did not hold the talents of any of his sisters, but he did not the signs of malnourishment. His gaze drifted off to the direction of the sea, losing focus for a moment on what his intention had been. His thoughts had been upon the borders, where he spent most of his days – travel outside of the pack was rare now.
 
A wave of nausea came to him then, and pulling his ember eyes from the waters view, the wolf made to drag himself forward once more, attempting to push past the pain in his leg before his vision spotted. Darkness swarmed him, and before the wolf could make a sound, he was down, his thinning figure a listless heap upon the floor of the forest.

I hope you don't mind! I can't resist a thread like this one. ^__^

Lucani prowled low, a touch of subconscious subordination about her lanky figure because she was thinking of her superiors. Aria, whose beauty haunted her day by day, and Lasher, who she admired as though he were something quite different from a normal Alpha. In others he seemed to inspire a sort of quiet reverence, and she was very curious about this. Though she had met him a few times before now, she desired to sit down with him one day and talk with him, learn about who he was — hear his stories. A challenge, yes, but one she sought.

It was either ironic or poetic that she then encountered a young male who looked an awful lot like Lasher. This here would have been a handsome buck if he weren't collapsed in a manner very familiar to Lucani (she had been in this state not long ago). She sniffed urgently at him then licked at his ears in an effort to wake him. Awaken, wolf, she requested in her deep voice.

done editing yey 

something is amiss. 

deirdre felt it in the pit of her stomach; and so she began to run, ignoring her exhaustion, ignoring her hunger which was surely less than that of any other, ignoring her aching limbs to resolve this feeling. she smelt before she saw, as any animal born for the hunt would smell a wound that festered. it was simply easy to find the source of it, because the source was alone, and the source was of her own blood. 

she did not realize she was standing o'er him now, did not quite know how she had gotten to where she was to suddenly above him. deirdre found the injury without any difficulty, so adept at this aspect of it she had become. though surely even one not skilled in this would know; a hunter would know perhaps even sooner than a healer when it came to matters of infection. 

it was an ugly wound, and it wept at her in colors of red and yellow. deirdre was an open book, and frowned at face of it. constantine, you should have gone to eilidh! she chastised gently--for she was but an apprentice... but even still, eilidh had been able to teach her how to heal without herbs of the earth. the sea was bountiful. the sea would give them what they needed when the forest could not. 

it was then she noted lucani there, who had certainly been here the whole time and that she had utterly missed in her worry. lucani, came her anxious breath--constantine could have gone to this handsome woman as well, and had not! surely he overestimated himself, or else thought his wound such a little thing that it would do him no good at all to see any. but eilidh and she were his sisters; why did he not seek them for a glance? perhaps he might be ashamed to show such a thing to lucani, but to them? and as lucani moved toward his upper body, deirdre followed suit. 

but he was on the ground, could he even hear her? are you with us, constantine? she asked, looking to his face, drawing near to it to observe his features.

His thoughts swarmed in and out – lucidity seemed far in between the dreams he knew he was having, as figures of his past seemed to emerge from the tall redwoods with disgusted looks upon their features, as if witnessed the downfall of a wolf far weaker than him.
 
But he was weak.
 
Lucani was barely registered in his presence. His gaze would lift up to her, but no movement otherwise would be made. His form shuddered, fever putting itself to work as he then firmly shut his eyes from the wolves who seemingly watched him from the trees – the judgmental wolves of Tartok haunting him.. Awaiting him to die to eat the flesh from his very bones.
 
It was Deirdre that pulled him back to the living and from the hallucinations and ghosts that sought him now. Gone were the dark wolves of Tartok, and wearily gazing at his pale sister, all he could consider was that he did not wish to die before her very eyes. He did not wish to be rejoined with his family only to leave them forever.
 
“Dee,” he murmured, a haziness in his mind making his words pronounce slower. “It’s fine, Dee. Look away.” Do not watch me die.

The sight and sounds tugged gently at her heartstrings, but she was a hard wolf, and composed. Lucani did not know Constantine, but it seemed from Deirdre's reaction to him that he was family. His scent would probably say likewise, but it was currently overpowered by the smell of infection, which had struck the healer urgently. As a wolf in need he had her care, as a wolf of Donnelaith he had her attention, and as a wolf of Lasher's family he had her devotion.

It's infected, she barely had to dip her nose to his wound. Her spirit waned at the sight of it, for there were no herbs; no quick and easy remedies, and infections were tricky at the best of times. I'm going to find your coconut and bring him some water, she told Deirdre. In lieu of moss, the little druid's find had been a livesaver. Speak to him, my young friend, she advised quietly before she left the scene with smooth urgency.

For Deirdre's very presence would have healing qualities. It would either keep him in a state of wistful life, or drift him into a state of peaceful death.

she now had the word for what inflicted her handsome mayfair brother, and as lucani mentioned what she would do deirdre nodded. the look she gave the androgynous woman was fleeting--for constantine spoke to her, proved he was alive and well and still there.

her eyes narrowed as he spoke to her, and she shook her head. do not ask that of me, came her gentle tones--her eyes were a strange mixture of soft and severe, and she was resolute in remaining. you are sick, only sick, constantine. lucani... she could help. she is getting water to help, she spoke as lucani bid, and then settled for the time alongside her brother. the famine will soon end, brother, did you know? i saw the cloven-footprint of a doe. you must get strong again, so that you can hunt her with me! she smiled at the thought, and watched him, wondering if he heard, if he understood. what was infection? what did it take? what would it leave?

They discussed him – that he knew, but he was unable to focus upon the words given. Deirdre soothed him – his fiery eyes sought the pale form of his sister, his muzzle lifting as if to offer a gentle shake of his head. She need not fret so – this was only nature taking its course, and while he was young, he did not fear death.
 
He only wished he could do more.
 
Yet sweet little Dee, so sure that the famine would come to an end so soon. The return of the greenery indeed held promise – but it did not ensure the herds would return so swiftly. Yet she insisted she saw the track of a doe, and he allowed his muzzle to settle back to the ground, unable to answer despite his desire to. “You will fly so high, Dee,” he muttered then, a shiver coursing through his form once more as he would make to tuck the injured limb beneath him – to hide the fiend from his sisters watchful eyes.

Lucani was not present as they conversed. She went to the medic's den for Deirdre's coconut, tracking it by its distinctive scent, which reminded her of gorse bushes. Upon finding it, she picked it up (awkwardly for one so graceful) and took it down to the river. As she filled it, she thought of Constantine — so young, too young. And she thought of little Deirdre, whose heart Lucani could not bear to watch break...

deirdre believed the words he said; for her goals and ambitions were limitless, though she did not yet know it. well, if that is true, you will witness it, she whispered to him, moving to kiss his brow. you will not leave us this day, my brother. it is well before your time. would you leave me already? she moved to rest on her belly, and to draw his head upon her legs to let him rest there as she doted upon him. we have too much to do together, i think, for you to leave me now. you must teach me to defend myself, to name one! would you leave me in this world, defenseless? our father has taught me very little, but you were with warriors! i would like to learn from you, she encouraged his mind to waken, to hear her, she willed him to participate with her in this conversation. she spoke, just as lucani had bid. summon your strength, constantine--now is a time for you to be strong, and to survive. she did not know she made mention of one of tartoks credos, vaguely and in so many words: only the strong survive.

She pulled him to her embrace – her words stirring a gentle flick of his ear as his eyes slid shut. It was not that he blocked out the world, but merely kept himself to the dark so as to keep the trees from spinning above. Nausea welled in his stomach then, though there was nothing to bring up – the trace of bones and ribs could be seen against the once proud wolf’s skin.
 
“I would not leave you,” he murmured gently – uncertain himself if he meant only that death would not take him, or that even in another life, he would not look after his family. She desired to learn the art of war, but he could do barely more than shake his head – was she a fighter? Such a gentle creature.. surely he could not undo that in the ways that Tartok had pressed upon him.
 
It was why he was home. He needed to be here.

Lucani filled the coconut half all the way to the top and let it overflow, knowing that plenty would spill along the way, no matter how careful she was.

Holding the hard shell carefully but awkwardly between her wide jaws, Lucani made her way back to Deirdre and Constantine, insistent that she mustn't let her heart fall into pessimism. In fact, it leapt when she saw that the boy still lived.

Take a few laps from this, she instructed him gently once she'd placed the water-filled coconut by his muzzle, then we'll pour the rest on your wound.

the cub sucked in a breath at his words, and nuzzled against his head. in this life, or any other, she finished desperately, willing him to remain in this body, feeling that while surely he could let go and depart them that there was no need to; this body could be saved, it was not beyond that! as lucani approached again, her eyes fell to the woman and observed, listened. she was learning, after all. is there anything i can do...?

"And what waits us after this life?" There was something in Deirdre's words that drew him -- as if the little witch had the answers to life that mystified him so. What awaited them all on the other side, whether he left her today, or not for years until now?
 
His fiery eyes were drawn upon the white angel, though Lucani's orders were taken with full obedience as the man perched himself up better then, tipping his muzzle to the water and feeling it refresh his very soul as the cold slid down his throat. Quenched, he pulled back, gratitude given to the woman with a gentle nod.

Lucani had every intention of asking Deirdre to help, and it seemed they were in the same mind. Yes — please pour the remaining water carefully over his wound, she requested, watching with quiet approval as Constantine quenched his thirst. He was drinking: this was a good sign.

Try to wash away everything on it and around it — blood, pus, matted fur, and especially dirt. You may have to use your tongue too, and I can go back for water.

She turned her attention to the patient now. You need a good wash, young man, she summarised gently. Then we'll talk about next steps. It will be okay. Your sister will keep you sound.

i cannot say for certain, deirdre whispers to him, ears flattening atop her head. she had been whispered things that were not meant to be shared to those living, but there was a twinkle in her eye. the circle turns and turns. some spirits remain, others depart and forget that which they once were. some remember, one day... others never know. this is what the wind has told me, but the wind has told me many things. deirdre spoke with the wind as she did the trees, the flowers, the earth; the wind and the trees knew most of all, and the flowers knew of death and told of rebirth.

lucani had come, and after being given instruction deirdre did just that. she was slow and careful, observing every nuance of the wound. anything that remained deirdre set upon with her tongue, not at all revolted by the work, dirty and unseemly though it might appear. this was for her brother and his life; she was a soft, sweet thing, but her stomach steeled itself in these matters. she listened to lucani in the meantime, tongue moving in gentle and slow strokes, ear leaning toward him to be certain he felt no pain.

He spoke nothing now – Deidre’s words did not soothe him as he had hoped, and the wondered if he would wander a spirit for his days, forever seeking something he could not grasp. Water splashed upon his wound, and the Mayfair youth flinched at the burn. Deidre’s ministrations were met only with the slight pull of his limb, though he attempted to still himself.
 
Placing his muzzle upon the ground, Constantine’s eyes flickered dangerously as a world of black threatened him, and he released a gentle sigh. “Family is everything, Dee,” he murmured gently.

While Deirdre set about cleaning that wound, Lucani returned to the river with the coconut, and was shortly back with the young ones. She inspected the wound, and gave a light nod — it was not in a good state, but certainly better than before now that Deirdre had cleaned it so carefully. He could recover.

She didn't pour any more water over the injury, knowing that Deirdre's saliva would have a better hand in warding off bacteria, so gave it to Constantine to drink instead. How would you feel about us moving you somewhere dry, out of the weather? the healer asked him, peering at him closely.

Can wrap this up with a fade if you'd like? Posting out of order to help finish this. <3

He was so tired – the cleaning of his wound burned, but he could scarcely react. His eyes drifted shut every so often, and he would breathe deeply in an attempt to stave off the nausea that swelled in his stomach. One ear flickered at the sound of Lucani’s voice, and for a moment, Constantine considered ignoring the healer – eager instead to drift in to sleep. But instead, he gave a slow nod, not arguing with her, and shakily, the wolf pulled himself up once more, hugging his injured limb closer to his chest before following after the medic – one whose orders he would follow for the duration of his healing time.

*sux*

her brother had agreed, and so they would go; deirdre would follow to know where it was he would rest, and take care of him as it was needed. she knew she would learn more from lucani, and her eyes briefly flicked upon the handsome woman before returning back to her elder brother. you will survive this.