Moonstone Quarry The ground walked here is a wonder

@Kinusi but AW

blood darkened the edge of his shoulder.

not deep—just a rake of antler, a flash of bone and instinct where the stag had turned sharper than expected. sólhárr had taken worse. still, he moved slower now, breath huffing warm against the stone as he limped back into the quarry, ribs rising and falling in steady rhythm.

the hide dragged behind him.
not the full body—just enough to prove it had been done.

his ear twitched as he crossed into the shade, steps echoing faint between the walls. he did not call for aid. would not.

he’d rest.
then return.

The scent of blood was on the wind. Kinusi who had taken to lurking in the shadows of the forest trees peered out. Sky blue eyes on the leader of the little merry band. His shoulder stained in crimson. Ripped hide hauled behind him. She took in the scene. And with dutiful paws padded forward.

I can help ya if ya want, or ya know you can suffer through it like a man. She jested softly. But her eyes on the wound already going through what she may need and what she had on her.

Her fur wrapped around her neck carried cat tail fluff and aloe. Some astringent like sage and rosemary. Yea she could help him.

sólhárr didn’t stop when she spoke, but his ears flicked toward the sound of her voice, the lift of her humor warm against the cold stone of the quarry.

he glanced back—
just once—
and the corner of his mouth curved in the shape of a smile that hadn’t been seen in some time.

i’ve done both, he murmured, voice like distant thunder. the hide tugged behind him as he came to a slow halt. he gave a low breath through his nose, nodding once—an unspoken yes.

the pain wasn’t worth pride.
not when kinusi offered.

he settled onto his haunches, shoulder exposed beneath the torn mat of bloodied fur, and tilted his head just enough to meet her gaze again.

make it quick, songbird, he said, amusement tugging at the edge of his tone. before the others start whispering i’ve gone soft.

He at first seemed as if he'd simply ignore. She caught the twitch of his ear. And lord help her, but she knew her voice carried. She was a singer after all.

So the undemonstrative could smile. How quaint. A tilt of her head and she waited for his agreement.

She shook her head and clicked her tongue. Foolish. Men have emotions and get hurt too. It's silly to pretend otherwise. But don't worry your secrets safe with me.

She twitched her nose. How do you know they don't already hmm? she teased back.

Then she set to work. I have some fluff for the bleeding. Let me just.

She lay some near the small creek and returned it in her maw. Biting down so the water rolled over his wound. Not the most sanitary frankly, but it was in a hard place.

I have some Sage so it doesn't grow infected and aloe to ease the sting.

She tugged at the fur she wore around her throat taking the small branch that held it shut. It rolled about. And she selected what she needed.

So a deer got one over ya huh

sólhárr let out a rough breath—not quite a laugh, but it shook something loose in his chest all the same.

so i can bleed and feel things? he rumbled, voice curling dry around the words, the one good eye slanting toward her. gods save me, kinusi. maybe next you'll say i ought to cry when the flowers bloom.

but there was warmth beneath it. not mockery.

he winced as the water touched raw hide, but made no sound. his gaze drifted to the creek, then back to her—her nose twitching, her clever mouth moving like she always had a tune tucked behind her teeth.

they already whisper, he admitted after a pause, a hint of mischief tugging behind the rough burr of his tone. some say i’ve got a favorite now. a bird with herbs and sass.

he rolled his shoulder slightly under her touch, slow and careful, letting her work. she was thorough. and funny.

mm. his tail twitched once behind him.
got me good. guess it was fair, right?

he exhaled, almost grinning.

He didn't laugh their leader. But he did something akin too. She wondered why he thought he had to be so strong.

Well obviously. You can bleed all over and actually admit it sucks. It's awful I know. Just absolute crap.

She laughed. You should. And sing lullabies to the bees. They love it.

Kinusi always had a tune at the ready. Or a story. And if she didn't she could offer sass in spades.

She gasped. No. Who is she. I should kick her ass. Imagine being sassy. For shame.

She pressed the astringent into the wound. And blew gently to alleviate the sting.  It's okay to cry I know it stings. If you're lucky I'll even give you a liver treat.

sólhárr exhaled sharply through his nose—almost a laugh, if not for the way it caught in his chest and rumbled there like stone caught in a river.

gods, he muttered, voice thick with dry amusement, you’re relentless.

his ears tilted back as she blew across the wound, and though his body tensed from the sting of her herbs, he did not flinch. instead, he turned his eye toward her—watchful, quiet.

warm.

a liver treat? he drawled, brow lifting just slightly. you think i can be bought so easy?

but the joke hung close to something gentler. something almost tender.

you’d lose that fight, he added after a pause, a smirk tugging faint at the corner of his mouth. the other one. whoever she is. the sassier she is, the worse you’d get it.

he lowered his head slightly, allowing her better access to the wound. the gesture, like everything he gave, was silent. understated.

She felt a warm flare of pride. She had finally won. He a tually laughed. Though she knew he'd never admit it. But she counted this one a win. A small smirk tugging at her lips.

In all the best ways.

She knew it would sting. And sometimes honestly those small cuts and wounds just sucked worse than anything. Like a nagging little cut just in the most inopportune places.

let me think for a sec. 

She frowned and placed a paw to her muzzle. Then nodded.

 Yes. Yes I do.

She laughed at that and shook her head.Personally she sounds awesome.

All that was left was aloe. And some web to keep it together. 

There you go tough stuff. And I'm so proud there were hardly any tears.

he watched her as she worked—precise, familiar. she knew what she was doing, even when she filled the air with nonsense and sass. maybe because she did.

she does sound awesome, he muttered, half to himself, as if still puzzling it out. a menace. but the good kind.

as the last touch of aloe pressed into the wound, he didn’t wince. just breathed, steady and deep.

then, with something almost like affection:
you’d make a decent sögumaðr, kinusi. you lead with your mouth and heal with it too.

he rose slowly, testing his weight. it held. good enough.

next time i cry, he said, glancing sidelong at her, i expect two liver treats.

Kinusi had not started out to be a healer. That was sort of her dad's thing. But she enjoyed it all the same. Now that she got older, learned to be quiet sometimes.

Kinusi laughed. Let me tell you a secret, Solharr. All the best kinds are menaces in the best ways. Just A-1.

A small smile. Affectionate and kind. Thank you. Perhaps I'll take up the mantle someday.

Laughter danced along the sky as she threw her head back. I'll make sure you get two. She pulled a treat from her fur and pressed it forward. As promised.

solharr had watched her with that measured kind of amusement, the kind that settled behind one weathered brow and curled only slightly at the corner of his scarred mouth. kinusi was young—but not foolish—and he liked that about her. reminded him of old songs before they had rusted.
a menace, are you? he drawled, low and graveled, voice like stone turned warm in the sun. figured you for a storm. all shine and rattle.
he took the treat, his one good eye gleaming with a rare spark of light. hm.
if you take up the mantle, solharr rumbled, quiet now, the gravity of his voice like frost hanging in still air, wear it well. speak plain. sing proud. and don’t bow to anyone who wouldn’t bleed for you first.