Wheeling Gull Isle do no harm

@The Body. Also welcome to peeps that hang around the patient

Nearly nine moons had passed between her birth and this day, and Maegi had seen two wolves bleed to death, before her eyes.

One had been Miraak, cut down in battle. She hadn't been able to do anything about it, stuck in hiding. Had she intervened, they would have likely killed her, too--and he wouldn't have wanted that. The other was the spotted woman, Fern's and Mur's mother. She had tried to help, and failed. Both times were sudden and terrifying, from life to death in mere moments.

She supposed that was why she watched the white wolf so carefully--she didn't want to have to deal with death a third time. She had yet to really understand that death was a large part of life, especially in the life of warriors, constantly walking the tightrope of survival. And this young man was teetering on that tightrope: he was healing, but slowly, and still in poor shape.

Maegi brought him things--herbs, food, bandages. And little trinkets he might find interesting, like polished shells or glowing rocks from the cavern. Today, she brought some poppy seeds and a fish, freshly caught, no small thanks to @Rokig (he was such a fine teacher!). She set these items down on the ground and gave the patient a smile, sitting down and placing her paws as neatly as she could--she would never grow into the stunted paw--in front of her.

"I brought you food and poppies," she said softly, voice much more gentle than it normally was.

The problem of waking up in pain meant that it was difficult to go back to sleep, and that was evident to the body that lay in the cave, because that bright eye never did close. The body felt all the pain their ruined body afforded, and there was very little the herbs could do to alleviate what plagued him. He watched as wolves came and went. He ate, he was tended to, sometimes he relieved himself with the aid of a medic, but for the most part there was only pain and it soon became a constant, incessant sensation. Always present. Always there, stopping him from drifting.

He watched as the pale girl from before returned to his side, bringing more offerings. After some explanation he tried to reach out and lick at the poppy seeds, but any form of strain only caused further discomfort; he whined, or thought he whined, and aside from the narrowing of his good eye there was only a short breath and silence — so he could not even cry out? He was stuck in this state, with these strangers, and he couldn't even — what was going on.

Leaving Stockholm with the children, Coelacanth emerged from her den and approached the dwelling where Titmouse lay, clinging grittily to life even as his lifeforce sputtered and dimmed like a dying ember. She was delighted to see Maegi there — she wished often that the pale ghost would visit the Labyrinth. “Small Maegi,” she breathed affectionately, her tail sketching a jubilant tattoo in the air. Poppy’s death and the unprompted arrival of Moonshadow had been particularly hard on the girl, and Seelie had been worried about her. It gave her hope to see the delicate smile that wreathed Maegi’s face — a face that the sheepdog found beautiful despite its ruin.

Being careful not to jostle or step on her friend, she circled around to the little fish who would soon celebrate her own Mitexi. If permitted, the Aralez would stretch to her full height — diminutive as it was — and preen lovingly at Maegi’s withers. The departure of Komodo, `Io, and Yakone would probably be a source of loneliness for her — at least, Seelie thought it might be — and her quivering nose was shyly attentive as she looked the girl over for signs of distress.

She noticed his difficulty in reaching for the seeds, and nosed them closer to his muzzle, placing them right under his snout. "There," she said softly, looking into his eye--a beautiful amber color, the most "normal" thing about him. She resisted the urge to give him a gentle lick, turning instead to see Coelacanth approach.

"Hey, Seelie," Maegi greeted, her voice still quiet as she stood and returned the Aralez's caress. She felt suddenly shy in the presence of both the patient and Undersea's leader, like she was being watched on all sides. The girl turned away, lifting her left paw awkwardly to lick some dirt from it, then paused.

There was a dark blotch between her pale toes, like a small tick. She went to preen it from her fur and tasted poppy instead--before she could resist, she had lapped it up, holding it on her tongue for a brief moment before swallowing. She aimed a shaky smile at Coelacanth, then sat back down near the marooned man, making sure he had taken his own medicine.

Sedation set in gradually, but once it did there was a calmness surrounding the injured boy. His pupil constricted slightly, although the drowsiness of the poppy seeds caused the eye to partially close. He sat there feeling just a touch better — and reached out for more, eager to consume anything that would make the pain go away.

To the shadowsilk empath, Maegi’s shyness was palpable. Seelie loved the pale ghost dearly, but worried that they hadn’t reached the level of insouciance she craved. She turned her attention to their patient, feeling that perhaps if some of the attention was diverted, Maegi might grow more comfortable with her intrusion. She stretched out across from Titmouse and touched her nose briefly to his. “Maegi meet new friend,” she commented softly, smiling. “Maegi help — um, save Teamouse life. Thank you.”

Her brows knitted with concern as the patient reached for more seeds, but before she could run and get some from her nearby cache, Coelacanth was speaking, addressing her. "Teamouse," she repeated, the word imperceptibly slurred. She pointed her muzzle toward the blanched wolf, committing the name to memory. Teamouse.

"Um, you're welcome," Maegi said a little awkwardly, shuffling her paws. "Be right back--" Then she shot away, traveling to her stash of poppy seeds and pulling two more out, cradled in a curved leaf. She brought them to Teamouse, ambrosia on a verdant platter, setting them below his nose and smiling down at him.

"You can't take too many, though," she said, a little sternly, reminded of her mother--practically comatose in the wake of their birth. "They kinda make you all. . .wiggly." She felt quite wiggly herself, the sedative pulling at every nerve in her body. She sat down, then lay on her belly, head on her paws as she watched Teamouse with sagging eyelids.

The pale wolf was suddenly gone, but it wasn't for long. In the interim, the broken boy was starting to drift from his medication and he was stuck thinking of the word Teamouse they kept on using; he didn't realize at this point that a Teamouse was him, as he had begun to associate himself with the shorter Mou, but that wasn't important.

When Maegi returned the boy's golden eye traced her approach and, his expression even seemed to warm somewhat when she began to help him with the poppy seeds. Her warning was met with a breathy wuff, but he still went ahead and consumed everything within reach. He didn't want to feel wiggly (whatever that meant) but anything was better than feeling so broken.

After a few seconds he opened his mouth again, as if to speak. He tried his best to make a sound or click his teeth, even whine, but it was clear after a few tries that he couldn't do anything. The only sound he managed was the slight clattering of his teeth as he sullenly closed his mouth again.

I’m just gonna go ahead and never have the same font in any post in this thread. XD

To Coelacanth, the soporific dip in the atmosphere was profound — but she welcomed it. She felt somewhat as if she’d trod upon something precious, causing the mood to shift in a less-than-positive way, though she couldn’t pin down why. The sheepdog was nothing if not a bundle of neuroses, a significant number of them unfounded, so with a soft lick to Maegi’s cheek and a tender preen to one of Mou’s ears, “Peace be,” the Aralez wished them gently, and trotted daintily away.

He ignored her warning and ate them all anyway, the drug beginning to take hold. Coelacanth departed with a lick to Maegi's cheek, and she pushed her head against the Aralez's muzzle, like a cat bunting. Once she was gone, the girl turned her attention back to Teamouse. Her body felt limp and heavy, and everything had began to slow down around them; the world grew suddenly smaller.

"My mother. . .loved these seeds." She lifted her paw to reveal the second seed stuck between her toes, and took it with no effort to hide the fact that she was doing so. Her bicolored eyes met Mou's one remaining orb, heavy-lidded and cloudy. "She hated us, and she wanted to escape. So she took these and lay in her den all day, every day, ignoring us. Shutting everyone out."

Potema had come unbidden to her mind, a pale wraith snaking through her thoughts. Though neither mother nor daughter held any sort of love for each other, Maegi could not--would not--deny the connection between them. They were Meloniis, dark sisters, mesmerized by the daedra, the plants that rose from the earth. Her blood was Potema's, and she would never escape that. Indeed, she had almost come to welcome it--for Potema, and Cicero, were her links to Meldresi.

"You look like a ghost," Maegi whispered, her filter gone entirely with the poppy stupor. "Sometimes I'm not sure whether I'm dead or alive."

The medicine was swift to act within him. It was hard to stay awake and to focus, so he missed the passing of the dark wolf. Although he did not remember closing his eyes, when he opens them again Coelacanth is absent and the boy's eye fixates upon the white-furred healer. She is speaking; he hears her but doesn't at the same time, not at first, and gradually lifts his ears to catch her story. Her voice is sad — or maybe he expects it to be sad but instead, it seems certain, as if these were easy facts to describe.

When Maegi paused in her speech, the boy notices a fog has rolled across her vision and her face seems relaxed but still far more serious, like Reed almost, or maybe this was how he looked right now with the sleepiness descending. She calls him a ghost. If he was a ghost it would not be so bad, he thinks, but it is her next comment that sends a chill through him — I'm not sure whether I'm dead or alive.

Dreamily, he opens his mouth. A part of him remembers the physicality of speaking and he knows what to do, but there is no sound that emerges from him. Strangely, there is another memory and without thinking, the boy makes the ptero sign for -No-, it is sloppy and probably nonsensical to the medic however, Mou feels a familiarity with the effort. He shuffles and tries to drawn himself closer to Maegi, if only to reach and strain meekly with his torso, and place his chin near her feet.

He is trying to comfort her, but the effort of movement leaves him a bit winded, so he is left to sprawl, and soon is drifting with the medicine.

He did something--a gesture, of sorts--the pale girl didn't understand, and she shook her head, confused. Before she could respond, he put his chin by her feet, shifting with more than some effort. She pressed her nose against his forehead if he'd allow it, drawing her tongue along his forehead in a soothing manner. While she hadn't comprehended what he had done, she saw the attempted comfort behind it, and smiled against his skull, closing her eyes.

"Maybe not dead, then," Maegi whispered, breath stirring his fur. "Everything feels too. . .alive to be dead." Alive and yet boneless, a kelp-like existence, floating through the water. She wasn't sure of the boundaries of her body; every nerve, every sense, was dulled, limp, heavy. The breaths she took were slow and deep, and her heart had slowed considerably.

There were stories she meant to tell him, but all the words were suddenly gone; she grasped for them, but they drifted away, leaves in a breeze. Maegi yawned, bringing her head down to rest by his. "Good Mou," she said softly, like a child praising a pet, then sleep was rolling over her like a tidal wave, pulling her into its depths. The dreams that met her there were of many colors, but upon rising, she would remember not one of them at all.