Wheeling Gull Isle "one day at a time," is what they tell us

Once the body had been relocated to a more secluded location (and an arduous task that was, keeping those shattered pieces together), it was rare for the poor creature to be left on their own for any length of time. Conveniently, the body had been placed in a shelter not far from the resident alpha female and her new whelps; visits from the island medic were frequent.

The days melded together, much as they had in the past. Like before, the being was lost to delirious thoughtlessness; there was no telling if the empty husk would wake to life, if any form of life could subsist within the framework of what was left — but in contrast, there were no dreams this time.

It was questionable, then, to think that one day he might wake at all.

if a proper medic shows up they're welcome to butt rokig outta the way

He usually didn't visit this part of the island. It was well known that Rokig typically stuck to the lagoon unless he was called elsewhere or was making his way to the mainland. But he was pulled here by a force that was gentle and caring. He could not heal but...well, he could try to offer food and a second set of eyes for watching over the body.

It was with a timidness that he settled near the shelter that would hold their resident patient. One who looked different despite his familiarity. All pale and bleached out like a lifeless sand-dollar. Scarred and battered like the oldest Saltwater Sturgeon. Maybe it was for the best the waters had given him up to Undersea.

Awkwardly he laid down with a fish between his front legs. Maybe he could stash it somewhere nearby for when one of the medics came around.

If one thing could be said about the pale boy, it was that he reeked of the sea. When the observer came by with his offering it wasn't like anyone would've noticed the smell of the fresh caught fish; the body that sat in the dark of the cave was still damp in places, and the odious nature of that otherwise pristine pelt was unmistakable.

The visitor was quiet; so too was the hollowed-out wolf, who breathed with laborious automation and did little else. That is, until he started to convulse. Perhaps it was because the body had ingested so much water on its trip across the pond — or perhaps it was just time, — but there were spasms, and a thin line of foam rising behind his teeth, spilling out as messy spittle across the rocky floor.

where are the medics? one of them is here, at least, drawn out by curiosity and a chance to actually do some medical work. neither her age nor the fact that she isn't actually yet a medic stop reed from barging in, yarrow clutched proudly beneath her teeth, following orders from @Hemlock. she just had her mitexi, after all.

her eyes narrow as they come to rest on rokig, recognizing him as maegi's friend. ah. the tense line of her expression relaxes, though she still regards him with poorly disguised suspicion as she lays the herbs down at the body's feet. she's never seen someone injured up close -- in fact, she couldn't help but feel slightly excited when she'd heard of his arrival, a patient hand delivered to the island! he's breathing, clearly, but he looks... the fearghal can't quite put her paw on it. wrong. clearing her throat, reed address rokig: "mama instructed me to bring these," her tone automatically slipping into haughtiness. "are you looking after him?" she asks -- assuming it must be the case, why else would he hang around a strange body?

The pale girl stayed close to the injured man, but not too close. She lingered in the shadows just nearby, watching people more competent than her in the healing arts care for him. But she was intrigued by him, and so she dare not leave his side, not just yet. She wanted to see whether he pulled through; she had a vested interest, and had since he'd washed up on shore.

The arrival of Rokig, first, and then Reed sparked her attention, and Maegi finally padded through the brush and into the shelter, thin frame making it easy for her to slip in and out of places without much fuss. She gave a shy smile to the healthy pair, then looked at the white wolf, a keening whine in her throat as she realized the present danger. He was shuddering, body jerking, drooling foam.

"He needs help!" Maegi cried, looking wildly over at Reed. She jabbed her muzzle at the herbs the ruddy girl had brought, glancing up at her. "Will one of these help. . .whatever is going on right now?" Her voice was full of fear. She'd already had one wolf die in front of her on this island--she wasn't going to have that happen again.

Rokig thought he had noticed something but was quickly swept up in the haughty voice of someone he barely knew - a.k.a he couldn't even recall her name. Brows crinkled together ever so slightly. Sorta. He said halfheartedly as his attention shifted from the haughty medic to the familiar form of Maegi. It was at her appearance that a much softer look overcame his features.

Although even that look was wiped away at the cry that slipped loose. The Seawolf scuttled onto his paws, prepared to help even though there was nothing he could.

They tried their best, and it seemed to be enough. Whatever Maegi had done was enough apparently; the foam dribbled away and a few moments later, with some sputtering, the boy was abruptly awake. His one golden eye opened a crack, then widened in surprise as the full brunt of the body's pain registered throughout — he sucked back a gasp with a crocodile-snap of his teeth.

The faces that swam in his limited vision were merely that - idle faces, figments he could not place. Scents overwhelmed him; the salt of everything, the musky, herbaceous notes of medicine. The many layers of the strangers scents — and in a panic, the body spasmed with intent to rise and escape, but the boy was too weak and could only shudder in pain.

maegi's arrival brings with it a momentary panic -- she hadn't noticed the body's frothing and mama isn't here to guide her -- but reed is, at the end of the day, steel nerves wrought tightly. snapping to attention the fearghal springs to be beside him, putting her paws on his chest, pressing a (admittedly tinged-frantic) rhythm to try and expel whatever may still be collected in his lungs. over her shoulder she says "no, they're for pain -- infection -- come help me with his head --" but she needn't have bothered, as one gold eye opens underneath her. 

startled, she stumbles back, her fur ruffled up along her spine as he rouses, erratic and spasming. her expression twists into something stern when she realises he's trying to get up, immediately returning to her position over his chest, attempting to drape herself over him to weigh him down as delicately as possible (like a tiny red thundershirt), mindful of the broken ribs coelacanth identified (or as mindful as she can be -- blessed that she is very lightweight). to him she instructs, "be still -- moving will make it worse," her voice leaving no room for argument. to maegi and rokig she says, "bring me the yarrow -- it's what i brought with me -- and one of you go get some poppy. i've some in my den and my mama should as well." instructions given, she fixes them with an authoritative look before returning her attentions back to the now-awake body, studying his breathing.

really sorry for the wait on this

"I'll get the poppy," Maegi offered, giving a swift nod in response to Reed before taking off in her hobbling gait. She found the healer's den and gathered up the small black seeds, looking for a moment in longing at them. She remembered all too well the glorious stupor, the dreamy daze, and had to stop herself from lapping them up, instead bundling them in a leaf and bringing them back to the patient's side.

Without consulting Reed first--she'd deal with the consequences later--Maegi nosed the poppy seeds toward the man, face insistent. "Take these," she said, placing them directly under his quivering muzzle. "They'll make you feel better." She started with a dose of only two or three; she didn't want to knock him out entirely, though perhaps that was what he desired. They'd no way of knowing, anyway. He was silent--had been wordless since he had washed up.

short panic rokig post

He quickly snatched up the yarrow and delivered it at the fiery one's order as Maegi disappeared to get whatever poppy was. Rokig was not well equipped to be a healer for he was lacking knowledge on that but couldn't exactly leave the small healer alone, could he? That would be rather fair.

When the pale form of Maegi returned, Rokig distanced himself from the den slightly. Out there he'd take his anxious nerves with him to stay out of the fur of the healers.

In tending to the ruined thing they tied it to the land, made it one of their own. Fed the plants through force if necessary, but tended to nonetheless, they would learn in time if their efforts were in vain. For now, it was enough—would be enough—and the body would manage through the night at the very least. It did not take long before the body was spent of its energies and left to waste, but in their care there was always a chance for more..