Lost Creek Hollow Covered in Foxglove

A mouthful of herbs nearly blocked his vision. Crowfeather trekked the path from his herb stock to the place where @Atreus healed. His pace was swift for a man missing a leg. The urgency had been created when he had heard that the boy had stepped from his rest and into the waking world.

The tripod stood outside the den, ears swiveling to capture any shift in sound that might come from within. He stepped inside and chuffed softly to announce his presence. There was no need to frighten the young wounded wolf.

I brought you some more herbs. These- These ones won't make you as tired, but they'll help you feel more energetic… stronger, Crowfeather said into the healing den. His honey warm eyes searched for the figure of Atreus.

Atreus didn’t really remember this particular wolf, though there was something familiar—comforting, even—about his presence. He raised his head from his outstretched forelegs when the swarthy man darkened the doorstep, smelling of earth.

Okay, he replied, for lack of anything better to say.

The shadow placed the herbs beside the boy and moved a few spaces in front of him. It was difficult to see someone in such a state. Crowfeather understood that this was the price to pay for taking the role of a healer. It did not mean he would revel in these difficult scenes.

The boy had wished to die.

Crowfeather settled into a sitting position. His tail curled to the stump where his leg should have been. It was a difficult feature to hide. His insecurities had made it a habit and he had taken to concealing his missing leg whenever he could.

I saw the brightest bird in the trees today. The- The sun made its feathers look like a clear summer s-sky. I have berries you might like. They share a similar color.

The shadow offered a measly smile. He did not think that this young wolf would want to talk about what had happened or what he might do with his future.

The dark wolf stepped inside the den, placing his bundle of herbs on the ground near Atreus. The patient watched this dispassionately, eyes flicking up as the other man settled. Only then did he abruptly notice the missing limb.

He stared at it, until a black tail swept over it. His two-toned eyes moved up to the wolf’s face just as he began to speak. He mentioned a bright bird in a tree. The stammer made him think of Ink and his jaw tightened. Atreus only dimly registered the remark about berries.

Why did this man think he was interested in berries? Or birds? Atreus knew it would be rude to cop an attitude, especially with the wolves who’d saved his life, but he wasn’t particularly thrilled about the situation.

I’m not very hungry, he mumbled. He paused and then asked, What’s your name? Were you there when I came out of the river?

Of course he wouldn't be hungry. Crowfeather's ears flipped back to his head. He nodded, understanding why this young wolf might not want to eat. The healer in him was reminded that all creatures needed food to remain healthy.

Maybe later, then, the shadow offered softly.

When the young wolf asked who he was, Crowfeather lifted his snout and batted his eyes. He had never introduced himself! Then again, their visitor had not been in a sound state to chat before this time.

I'm Crowfeather. I- I came to help Ash Paw bring you- bring you here. Where we could treat the wounds and watch over you.

The dark tripod had carried the young wolf on his back. He would have done it again, no question.

Atreus nodded in acknowledgement. He knew he ought to be groveling to these wolves for not just rescuing him but housing and medicating him too. He literally owed them his life. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep living it, so it made it difficult for him to feel gratitude.

I kind of wish you hadn’t, he spoke the truth, but I guess I’m glad you did, if only for my sister’s sake. Do you know if Ash Paw sent a messenger to her yet? Her name’s Amalia.

He felt like a heel for pushing this on top of everything else. But he genuinely hated the idea of Amalia worrying about him. And he would’ve been happy to give himself over to oblivion, if not for her. He couldn’t do that to her, not knowing how devastated he’d be if the roles were reversed.

Crowfeather could not hide the concern that lined his features when the boy first spoke. It seemed that he was grateful, if only for his sister. He asked if a messenger had been sent to speak to her. The tripod shook his head, uncertain.

I will make sure that someone is sent to speak to her. I gi- give you my word.

If he had to go on his own, he would make sure that the boy's wish was granted. It would be the least that they could do for him. It would likely take some time to heal. At least a short while before he would be able to travel very far.

What- um- what are you called?

The tripod did not know the boy's name and he already knew that he had wished for death. The stinging in his chest would not subside.

Thanks, Atreus replied, considering giving an alias before deciding not to risk confusing the message to Amalia, and my name is Atreus Psithurism Willow.

Beyond that, he wasn’t really in the mood for company or conversation. Atreus wouldn’t send Crowfeather away, though it took him a moment to think of what to say next.

How long do you think it’ll be before I can go home? Like, when will I be able to move around and walk decent distances? he queried, tacking on, And don’t sugarcoat it. Tell me the truth.

Atreus had a name suitable for a prince. At least, this was Crowfeather’s first thought when the boy introduced himself. He wondered what the Pharaoh would have thought of such a name. The man had always seemed to have an eye for the unique. It would have been likely that Atreus could have found a place for himself as a Neb of Akashingo, simply by sharing his name.

This made Crowfeather feel inadequate on a frightening level.

Y-You want me to be honest, he spoke with a heavy voice. I do not know. I will work with you, if you will accept my help. Herbs and rest will be the best thing for you right now. When your wounds have closed up and you don't risk tearing yourself open again, we can start working to get your strength back.

The way he described it had made it seem like Atreus would be trapped in Riverclan for months. His dark ears fell to his head.

I p-promise. We will get you home as soon as possible. If I have to travel to treat you, I will.

Honey eyes shifted to the floor. Crowfeather's cheeks burned.

“I do not know,” Crowfeather admitted. Atreus’s stomach sank, though he listened carefully as the man detailed his prognosis. His dialogue ended with an offer to travel wherever the yearling needed him.

He shook his head and said, No way. You’ve already done enough—too much. I’ll stay here until I’m healed, if that’s alright. And then maybe a little longer, to pay you back a bit. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.

This meant he wouldn’t be able to go home to Brecheliant anytime soon. Atreus wasn’t that concerned, save for Amalia. But so long as they sent a message her way so she knew he was in a bad way and would see her as soon as he could…

I’m a scout, Atreus continued after a beat of silence, but I also have a lot of warrior training. I can help patrol borders or do whatever else you guys need me to do.

He lapsed into silence for a moment, thinking over what Crowfeather had said about the rough timeline. He was going to be here a while, using up their resources and their time. Atreus’s jaw tightened.

Actually, I’d like to join your ranks, if you’ll have me. I’ll do whatever I can to earn my keep, starting as soon as possible and then for a while after I’m good to go. And on that note, What’s the name of this place, anyhow?

Would you care to fade this to black for us? I think I’m gonna shelve this guy for a little bit. :)

Totally okay! I'm sorry I made you wait so long… <3

You may stay as long as you like. This place is called Riverclan.

Crowfeather had no issues with giving the boy a place to rest and grow strong. No matter where he ended up, if he could experience peace for a short time, it would have been worth it. The dark leader knew that it would be good to have him nearby. The wounds he had suffered would take time and patience to heal. It was a journey that Crowfeather was familiar with. He did not envy the young man. He only wished that he could erase his suffering.

Rest now. I will visit later.

A small smile was offered to the boy. Crowfeather slipped away from the healer's den and into the shade of the trees.