Jade Fern Grove i may not know my flowers but i know a bitch when i see one

She'd finally gone several days in a row without an ache in her shoulder, even hunted for herself, and felt like herself once more. She'd depended on her little band of wolves for a while for food and comfort and protection and while she'd made some contribution, she knew it wasn't enough. She could provide for them in the same way they had for the last several days with hunting and guarding and marking their territory. Her shoulder had simply been a soft tissue injury with no permanent damage to the joint or tendons or bones.

Ocra felt nothing sour toward the misunderstood boy that had caused her to hurt her already injured shoulder but that still didn't mean she was fully ready to forgive him. She'd told him she had, but mostly to appease his wounded demeanor, but he still proved him to be worthy of her forgiveness, even if it took longer. She hadn't seen him in a few days and his scent had been vacant but she recalled vaguely his trip to his former home for departure. Why it had taken so long, she wasn't sure, but the worry that crept up into her mind surprised her. What had once been disdain and a need to stay away from @Xan had developed into concern over his absence, even more prominent than Sriracha's had.

Uncertain what to make of the conflicted emotions, Ocra began her trek to the borders of the grove where their scent had been growing and began the tedious work of marking.

The trip to the woods and back again had taken a greater amount of time than he’d originally believed that it might. He’d dragged his feet during several points of the journey there, having wondered if he’d been doing the right thing or not. To leave his family for a group of strangers—it was illogical, he’d once thought, though the reminder that Cicero lived in Blackfeather had easily corrected his views. Away from them, he was safer, and so he’d eventually reached the woods and took care of all that was necessary. After leaving, he’d needed to rest, but had then been quick to get his legs moving again afterwards. He had a place that he needed to return to, and strangers that he, surprisingly, wanted to see.

For the most part, he’d moved without any issues. It was only once he’d needed to cross the range that a problem had been met. Going up, he’d managed just fine, but going back down was an entirely different story. Foolishly had his paw been placed, pressed down upon a bedding of loose rocks. Without hardly any warning, the ground had run away from beneath him and down the boy had gone, having twisted himself just enough so that he wouldn’t smash his face into the rocky surface. His left shoulder had taken the majority of the hit, followed then by his side and thigh. By the time he’d stopped sliding, various parts of his left side were adorned by scrapes of various depths. Blood seeped into his fur, and, for a long while, he’d simply laid on the ground and stared up at the sky overhead. It was the realization that he hadn’t died that had prompted him to sit up and tend to his wounds the best that he could by cleaning them. After that, the rest of his journey to the grove was slowed and agonizing, each step forward having pulled at the now sensitive skin.

Walking along flatter lands had offered him some relief, but still did he wince every so often. To search for the bark of a willow tree hadn’t even crossed his mind, the need to return to the group having clouded his thoughts. Yet, as he’d reached the fringes of the territory and spotted a glimpse of a familiar face, he’d paused. Muttering something to himself, he’d eventually proceeded towards her with a quick chuff, trying his hardest to keep the soreness felt from reaching his face—which he had not succeeded at.

Temporarily was she lost in thought about the future that she nearly missed Xan from the corner of her gaze. He stuck out like a sore thumb, bright white fur against a backdrop of contrasting greens and browns. Her head lifted as she stared for a long moment, chuffing his approach when he was close enough. Her jaw parted to speak and welcome him home, finally but the site of imperfection caught her attention first. She moved in closer without any proper greeting to see what had happened to his shoulder. 

"What happened?" she asked first, realizing there were several other questions to follow it that was difficult to keep still. "Did they do this?" she asked a beat later. She knew he'd gone back to his family but the little she knew about them didn't help as she tried to draw a conclusion. Her stomach twisted and she took a step back, urging him to follow. "Can you follow me? Does it hurt too much?" As much as she tried to keep her jaws shut until he gave her some answers, they continued to spill from her muzzle, one far more worried than the previous.

A verbal greeting was not given, her attention having gone straight towards his injured side. There was a question, and then another, and then some more, but hardly any pauses in between for him to have actually answered each one individually. He’d loosed a sigh, but was otherwise quiet as she worked to get out all of the questions that were on her mind. Her tone seemed worried, which confused him, having expected some sort of positive reaction; after all, he’d contributed to her previous injury, and so he’d expected a grudge to be held against him. It seemed as if that wasn’t the case, though, and so he’d stared at her for a moment before following her to wherever she intended to lead him.

As he moved, he’d winced every once in a while, but often tried not to show it. When he’d realized that Ocra’s onslaught of inquires had ceased, he’d taken the time to go through and answer everything. “No one did this. I slipped down the mountain on my way back,” the boy explained, shrugging, and then regretting having done so. “It doesn’t hurt that much. It could have been worse.” He considered himself lucky that it hadn't been.

She wasn't sure what to make all of this and when he didn't answer fast enough, her heart began to pick up in speed. If his former home had done the damage, would that mean they would come after them? Perhaps she should have gotten Sriracha, but she was distracted as he began to move along with her and finally gave her some insight to her questions. He answered them, for the most part, and she took a few seconds to breathe before she opened her mouth again. Letting herself calm down would do them both a world of good, and learning it had not been his former home to hurt him gave her a little relief.

"Someone should have gone with you," she told him. Even if they didn't go all the way to his home, if something had happened, they'd known about it. "Let me clean you up," she offered, flicking her dark gaze toward him, closing the rest of the distance to the stream.

The panic she’d felt was easy to be seen, but he’d said nothing about it. His focus was put into moving, steps slow so as not to pull too much at his damaged flesh. It was only scrapes—it resembled a bad case of road rash, really—which made it easy to not be overly concerned about it. A greater reaction had been triggered when she’d mentioned how someone should have gone with him. The boy was quick to shake his head, waving the idea off. “No,” he’d said, knowing better than to take someone to the woods. “It would have been dangerous for someone to go with me. It was better that I went alone.” Even if he had come back injured, at least he’d come. Whether or not the same would have happened had he been joined on his journey there, he didn’t know, and would never risk it.

Whenever she’d stopped, he had as well. With the stream reached he’d settled down to take some weight off of his shoulder, and avoided leaning on his injured side. “You can do whatever you need to,” was his response, giving her permission to treat him. Xan wanted to believe that she’d not hurt him further, and so he trusted her with the task of cleaning him up.

It didn't surprise her when he objected to the idea. He was young and stubborn and just the type you couldn't tell anything to. Ocra found herself not so annoyed by the defiance, either, which gave her a little surprise. Nothing worth her to remark on, she continued to lead him to the stream where they were both able to take a few moments to breathe. He made himself comfortable and Ocra paced back and forth, trying to decide what to do for him while at the same time trying to get her panic to subside.

"Drink," she told him when she came back to reality, looking him over. Her nose touched him all over, trying to find tender spots or further wounds despite whatever protest he had for her. She would make sure everything was fine in her own way and if she needed to warn him, she would.

Satisfied with most of her work and discovery, she turned to pay special attention to his shoulder. 

"There isn't much in there," she observed over the jagged flesh. Either he'd landed on a smooth rock or he'd done a great job at cleaning himself after. Neither would surprise her, given the condition, and she took a step back. "I'll be right back," she added as an after thought, not have given him a chance to reply before she turned and darted off.

As she paced, he watched her, uncertain about what he should say. Hey, calm down! seemed too commanding, as did many of the variations that could be pulled from it. He’d needed to settle on something, though, which had caused him to say, “Relax. It’s not like I’m dying.” He also wasn’t about to take a trip down another mountain anytime soon, so it was unlikely that she’d get rid of him that easily. He wondered if she’d even heard him, but hadn’t asked. From there he'd chosen to be quiet—until she’d told him to do something.

“I don’t want to,” was his response, disinterested in the water. Even if he had leaned down to drink, his head would have snapped back up before he’d the chance the lap at it anyways. She’d started to poke around at his body, and he’d flinched once or twice in response to it. “Watch where you’re touching,” Xan told her, readjusting how he was sitting as he did so. “Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” He was only joking, though he’d been serious about wanting her to be more careful. The wounds weren’t bad, but they were still tender and he didn’t want them prodded at any more than what was absolutely necessary.

When she’d commented on the wounds, he’d turned his head to try and peer at his shoulder, but didn’t stay like that for long. Just as he was righting himself, he’d noticed her take a step back, before having taken off entirely. Though she’d said that she would be right back, he was still taken aback by her sudden departure. He also couldn’t help but wonder if she would actually be back or not, and so already had he started planning to leave after a certain amount of time.

It wasn't until she was halfway back to Xan and the stream that she remembered his aversion to herbs and plants. She remembered his disdain when it came to the willow tree and shooting her down with solution that might help him sleep. She even considered dropping the herbs where she remembered all this and giving no effort to try and help the stubborn child. Instead, she has a grip of a green plant with a purple flower head and a strip or two of willow. She doubted he'd take the willow but she will offer it anyway.

When she trotted back in view, he was still where she'd left him and she'd slowed to a stop and dropped the herbs at her feet.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, lowering her rump to the ground and making herself comfortable. She was sure rejection would come from her aid but the last thing they need is an infected wound getting out of control.

Time went on, but eventually had the female returned, and still was he where he’d been left. Though he’d planned to leave shortly after her departure, he’d ended up staying instead. After seeing what she’d brought back with her, however, he wondered if waiting had been a terrible idea. The willow bark was easy to recognize since he’d collected it for her on numerous occasions, but the other thing was unknown. He didn’t know what it was or what it did, and so he’d shifted out of discomfort after having watched it be placed on the ground. Would she poison him? It was doubtful, but not impossible.

Xan shook his head as he’d said, “It doesn’t hurt too much.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but wasn’t the full truth, either. As long as he neither moved nor had the injuries touched, they were fine. But the slightest tug at the flesh caused for a stinging sensation to start at one point of his body, and then flow down through the rest of it. If not for his distrust of herbs, he’d surely have requested any that might be capable of taking the edge off.

Xan gave her a generic non-answer as a response and it took most of her willpower not to roll her eyes. She knew this was a risk as she’d gathered a few things but she wasn’t going to give up just because he gave her one deflection. Instead, she dropped her head and picked the bark out of the bundle and put it aside but still within it reach: it’s here if you want it.

“That’s good,” she said, eyes dropped to search for the other thing she’d brought. This wasn’t going to be given up without a fight and she carefully picked them up and placed them a little closer. “Keeping it clean will help it from getting infected, but this will help from the inside out.”

When the bark was picked up, he’d tensed, eyeing her. He watched as it was placed to the side, but made no move to grab it. Whilst Xan had seen on several occasions that it could be helpful, he wasn’t ready to take that sort of risk. Somehow, someway, he’d end up with an infected piece, and then he’d end up dead—but would that really be such a terrible thing? At the thought, he’d considered taking it just to see what could happen, but never actually reached for it. He’d kept himself seated and resorted to ignoring the bark, then looked back towards Ocra.

When the other plant was relocated, he’d moved back, fur bristling. She said it would help, but he didn’t believe her. “I’m not eating that,” the boy stated, his mind unable to be changed. “Keeping it clean will be enough. I don’t need that.” Even if he did need it, he wouldn’t take it. Never had he seen the plant before, so it definitely couldn’t be trusted.

When Xan defied her instructions, she stared at him for a long moment after he finished speaking. Her blinks were slow while her mouth parted, tongue running the curve of her lips. She’d gone out in search for what she’d brought and he was already denying her help. Her ears drooped against the back of her head and she wasn’t entirely sure where to go from there. Part of her wanted to turn around and walk off and the other part wanted to take the herb and shove it down his throat until he choked on it.

“It will make sure your shoulder won’t get infected. Just keeping it clean won’t guarantee and if it gets infected, it—” she cut herself off, turning her head in another direction to try and figure out if it was worth it. She sighed, shook her head, and turned. “Nevermind.” And off she went.

Xan remained skeptical of the plant even as she explained that it was necessary. He was certain that he’d never take it, given that what it could do was unknown to him. And yet, as soon as her sentence was stopped abruptly and replaced by a nevermind, he felt drawn towards whatever it was that she had brought. It was looked at again, but he couldn’t even think about actually eating it; partially because his mind was overrun by what-ifs and he was unable to utilize his gross motor skills as a result. What would happen if he ate it? How about if he didn’t? As he’d opened his mouth to ask her, she was already gone, and so all that came out was a desperate, “Wait.”

He followed after her with a quickened pace, attempting to get around her so that he could stop in front of her (because that had gone so well the first time). As soon as she’d stop, he would ask, “What happens if I don’t take it?” It couldn’t be too bad, right? She wouldn’t just let him get away with not taking it if doing so would be risky to his health… right? On second thought, maybe she would. By thinking that, he’d succeeded in sending himself into a brief moment of panic. He’d thought before that death would suit him, but he wasn’t willing to let his cause of death be clumsiness.

Nothing about Xan surprised Ocra anymore. She hadn’t known him very long but each encounter seemed to be more grating than the last. She’d gone out of her way to make sure she had things to keep him from getting sick and his immaturity led him to believe he didn’t need help, no matter how big or small. She sighed and nearly stomped her way out and she almost doesn’t stop when she heard the choked out wait! for her attention. 

Ocra stopped in her tracks and stood there for a moment, staring off into the distance long enough to hear the question. She smirked, unable to hide the fact she’d set a bug in his brain easier than she thought. Her brow lifted and she turned around to face him, shrugging indifferently. “Maybe nothing. Maybe keeping it clean will keep it from getting infected. Or maybe your whole leg will fall off, I don’t know!” she huffed and if she could through her hands up in desperation, she would.

Thankfully, she had stopped, but her answer wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting—or wanting—to hear. His ears fell back and concern flashed across his face, accompanied by skepticism. Was she telling the truth? He had no way of telling, and really didn’t want to chance it. “Can that really happen?” was his next question, not knowing the answer. Never had he spent time around medics, nor was he familiar with all that infections could lead to—aside from death, of course, but his wounds didn’t seem severe enough to kill him.

“I—” How did he even want to respond to something like that? Honestly, he wanted to call her bluff, but couldn’t figure out if it was an actual lie or not. “I don’t like herbs,” he settled on saying, but that wasn’t the end. This time, an explanation was to be offered. “I was drugged before and the results were… not good.” His brows pinched together as he looked towards the ground, wondering if it was fine for him to say what he had. After shaking his head, he’d brought his gaze back up to focus on her, continuing with, “Do I have to eat it? Can you try it first?” It’d be like a parent attempting to get their toddler to eat something new.

To the first question, Ocra shrugged with disinterest. She learned to take care of wounds early and keep them clean, prevent infection since infection kills. She didn’t really think Xan would lose his entire leg but it could make him sick, if it was bad enough. But it is when he spoke again that she finally softens and her ears fell back against her head. Ocra took a step forward when he confused the reasoning behind this particular instance of stubbornness. 

“I’m sorry,” she said though it wasn’t an instant change for her to feel sorry for him. She felt bad, to an extent, but she felt worse than he didn’t trust her. Though he didn’t really have good reason to. She’d been mean to him, more or less, from the beginning, but he’d been just as crappy too and she didn’t know if they could even come back from it. A world of snarky comments and irritation thrown at each other? 

Clearly, patience wasn't her forte. 

“And yes, you do and yes, I will,” she finally said, taking a few steps closer and then, ultimately, passed him in order to retrieve the herb she’d brought. Without much of a second thought, or doubt she had the wrong thing, Ocra took a few leaves of the plant and ingested them before turning back to face him. She brought the rest of it before him and sat down, wondering if he’d wait long enough for any further bluffing or adverse effects.

Xan didn’t like talking about what had happened, not even the part about having been drugged. It had been a terrible experience to go through, one of which he wished to forget entirely. Never would he tell a stranger about it, nor someone he didn’t trust. Whilst it wasn’t great enough to make him eat any plant that she decided to offer him, he did, to a certain extent, trust Ocra. Not with everything, of course, but that was primarily due to his lack of knowledge in regards to her. His first thought when seeing her had been a suspicion, formed from fear. Now, things were different. He wanted to trust her more, to learn about her, and so he’d offered his explanation at last. It might not have been elaborated on, but it was a start.

He watched her as an apology was given, but was confused over what had caused it. She had not known what had happened, nor had she taken part in it, so what did she have to be sorry for? Unable to figure it out, he’d both said and done nothing in response to what was said. Someday, perhaps he would understand that apologies were not always simple or direct, but for now he was at a complete loss.

As soon as she’d agreed to taste the plant, his ears had perked up and body turned, following after her. All the while he was quiet, watching as she took some of the leaves into her mouth. He’d waited a few minutes after she had swallowed them—not nearly as long as it’d taken for whatever Cicero had used to take effect, but he’d thought it was long enough—and looked her over, searching for any signs that might suggest something bad was happening. Seeing nothing, he’d approached the plant tentatively, nosing over it once or twice before picking it up. His ears folded back as he began to chew slowly, stopping every few seconds and waiting to make sure that he was still fine. After he’d finally gotten around to swallowing it down, he’d asked, “That’s all, right? I won’t have to eat anything else?” It helped knowing that she clearly wasn’t interested in poisoning him, but he still wasn’t at a point where he would be willing to eat flowers and stuff at any given time.

Ocra recalled getting frustrated him over the last several weeks and, oddly enough, somehow revolved around plants. He'd been reluctant to help her with pain when Sriracha interfered and then denying her help with sleep aids. Now, as he resisted the plant to keep him healthy, and explained why, she felt a little guilt rise in her chest. She took a few deep breaths and slowly released them, trying to hide the feeling rising within her. She couldn't go back and change what she'd done but she could, or at least make an effort, to be a little more considerate.

And it helps that he was willing to trust her.

"More or less. You really need to eat it a few more days in the next few days while it heals. I... can show you where it grows if you want to pick it yourself or whatever," she explained a little awkwardly. She didn't know what would be best for him to get the medicine he needed but if it involved following him around to get the right one and eating each time, she supposed she would. Ocra shrugged a little and fell silent, waiting for whatever he decided to do.

The ideal answer, in his opinion, would have been a simple yes. Confirmation that he wouldn’t have to eat any more plants, that he was done and nothing bad would happen to him. It was disappointing to hear that he wasn’t actually finished, and would have to eat the same plant several times over the course of a few days. He’d considered asking what would happen if he didn’t, but figured that he wouldn’t like that answer, either, and so the question was abandoned. He knew that it wouldn’t be quite as bad the next few times, especially since he had already found out for himself that it didn’t have any negative effects on him, but that didn’t mean he was any more eager. Maybe to get the next couple of days done and over with, but the actual act of plant-eating would never sit right with him.

When it was suggested that he might pick the flowers for himself, Xan was quick to shake his head. Even if he were to be shown the exact location of the plant, he didn’t trust himself with selecting the correct one. There was also the need to continue having Ocra test them out beforehand, just so that he could be certain nothing bad would happen after it was ingested on more than one occasion. “I don’t want to pick it myself,” he told her. “I want you to do it.” Either that, or he’d refuse to eat it altogether and just take his chances with cleaning alone. If an infection set in, then so be it—it would be better, and far less humiliating, than accidentally poisoning himself.

Ocra knew he didn’t like the answer he got and she looked away, biting her tongue on the words that really wanted to come out of her mouth. Her ears drooped against her head but she wait a moment anyway, turning back a few seconds later to look at him once he announced what he preferred. Of course, he wanted her to do it, but she didn’t speak—she wasn’t sure she’d say the right thing—and she just nodded her head anyway. “Okay,” she said, her nodding prolonging a little before she finally stilled herself. “I can do that.”

Alexander hadn’t known whether or not she’d be fine with selecting the plants for him, given that she’d suggested something else previously. He’d wondered for a moment about what sort of response she might have hoped for him to have given, curious. It wasn’t long before the thoughts had been dismissed, however, shoved out of his mind by the sound of her voice. She hadn’t said anything against his request, but had decided to accept it; it made him happy, in his own way, to hear that she wouldn’t just leave him to fend for himself. It made trusting her a bit easier, but he still wasn’t at a point where he’d willingly lay the fate of his life in her paws.

Shifting his weight from side to side, he’d glanced around the grove until his eyes had managed to land back on her. Briefly had his mouth opened, suggesting that he’d been ready to speak, but he’d closed it before any words had come out. Again had he looked away after that, staring towards the ground with a furrowed brow. When at last he’d worked up the ability to speak, his response of choice was short and simple: “Thanks, Ocra.” For not letting anything bad happen to him, as well as for giving up her own time to continue to look out for the boy.

He seemed reluctant at first but she brushed it off. He'd been reluctant this whole time until she worried him into thinking his leg might fall off. Which she didn't really think would happen but something always could. She doesn't revoice those concerns, either, now that she had him on some level of trust. Eventually she showed him where they were anyway even if it meant picking it herself, likely testing it, and giving it to him.