Stavanger Bay The seas may be rough, but I am the Captain!

maybe @Dalia?

After the chaos he perpetrated he needed somewhere to hide out and fix himself up; thankfully Firefly had paid attention to Erzulie when she had tended his wounds before, and Willow prior to that. The man needed only to find the pack's herb stores and begin working at his clotted wounds - difficult though it may be - and keep an eye out for further dangers.

As he roamed he found some pools of salt water. He remembered using them to clean his wounds before and so he plunged in, letting the salt burn at the wounds of his shoulder for a few minutes while he grit his fangs. When he emerged he didn't bother shaking off, and stalked in to the nearest copse of trees to begin his hunt.

He eventually did find a cache of herbs - salted and dried within a hollow - and the scent of a woman lingered on them.

UR AVATAR I'M CACKLING

with all that had transpired in the recent days, including the discovery of her younger siblings as well as the news of the deaths of portia and drageda... dalia had a lot to unpack. news of the uprooting of ford (assumedly heard from velen) hurt her in other ways, ways that shook the ground she stood on. what happened in drageda may have been hard to hear, but it was part of her past. this was part of her present. part of her future. of her children's futures. silently, dalia wondered if they would have any place here... she was almost too scared to ask. 

the news of pregnancy was only a small whispering, for now. her petite frame would forever show any weight gain as clear as a glass door might. she bulged only slightly, it was still so early, but just in the tenderness, dalia noticed. just as she noticed the morning sickness and the constant urgency to urinate. something was afoot. even her scent was different -- even if only slightly. 

today, with all this on her pretty, little mind, she tended to her cache, taking a few herbs from the garden to replenish some of the dwindling stocks... she found, however, not @Velen when she arrived, but the rather messy appearance of a man whom she did not recognize... though she could assume who he was. this was the man who was sending her whole life into question. at once a lump formed in her throat, and she had to gather all her courage to swallow it back down. she cleared it, her throat, before offering a bell-like greeting, pleasant as ever despite the uncertainty that wavered around her. "can i help you?" she asked to his back, as she stood at the mouth of her own den looking in.

Some of the herbs were familiar enough to him that Firefly boldly sought them out, plucking them from where they lay and gathering them nearby. When he delved in to the cache a second time, then a third, he was caught by surprise when a voice spoke from behind him; he didn't spook at the sound, but he did smack his head against part of the cache as he withdrew from it, disturbing the soil and half-burying a small pile again. He lifted free of the cache and turned to regard the stranger — assuming it was the wolf that tended the stores since her scent was everywhere. She looked to be quite young, which surprised him.

Aye, maybe, he responded as he turned to face her, pawing at his pile of collected herbs in order to draw them closer, show them off to her. Wasn't my intention to mess up your stockpile, I was lookin' for something to stave off infection and help my wounds heal — which, as he spoke, he realized she might not have been so keen about. Him being an usurper and all. But if she was anything like Erzulie or the witch-women of the lost lands, she'd help anyway. It was her duty.

He could've asked for aid, tried to appeal to her youth and her innocence, but the thought barely passed through his mind. Rather than do that, Firefly announced: C'mere and help patch me up — that's your job, right? You can't refuse your new boss. He flashed her a smile, although it was more chilling than it was welcoming - almost like he was daring her to refuse.

it might not have been the friendly atmosphere desired, but dalia was so used to ford's bone-chilling calmness that his own strangeness hardly curbed her. it was only the fact that he held so much unknown power that drove her fear of him. and she'd learned from her mother to hide her emotions -- though she wasn't as good as portia at that, especially not in this state. she played off his personality, despite the wariness she felt he seemed rather chipper, and dalia could do chipper. "you'll help me clean it up once i'm done," she returned with a suave swish of her tail as she ducked into her den. she'd earned a bit of sass from all her encounters with velen and rannveig and saucy. 

her ears pressed forwards, and she nosed past him to dig through the herbs he'd made such a mess of. "i wouldn't refuse anyone," she added in regards to his comment, seeming to be digging for power over her. he had it, nonetheless. dalia had never held any power in any situation. she was submissive as could be. a loyal woman and a loyal packmate. it was how she would get herself into trouble, unfortunately, but also into wonderful situations. such as velen. dalia would never know how she was so lucky as to tie down such a wonderful man such as velen. he probably thought the same of her, but she didn't look at herself like that. 

when dalia turned again to address him, she held a few things in her jaws. a flower, for one, yellow and plump. she placed it beside them, on a stone, and used her paw to begin to press it into the surface, juices trickling out. "my name is dalia," she said simply, focused on the plant before her.

I wouldn't refuse anyone, she promised, much as he expected of her. She moved past him and began to sort through the mess he'd made after that, so he withdrew from the cache and watched her carefully. A part of him knew the danger of trusting his health to a total stranger (even if they were a healer); if she really wanted to, she could poison him and rid the pack of his fresh claim, his power. He would have to be careful of whatever she chose to administer.

When she withdrew herself, turned to him and gave an introduction, he was watching the plants that she carried with her rather than listening. It didn't affect him one way or another if he knew the names of the people here — they weren't his people, not really. Just another ragtag group like Rusalka (but boy, was he wrong about that). And what does that do? He made sure to ask, motioning with a nod of his snout at the yellow flower with an air of skepticism.

If you're hoping to dose me or poison me, forget it, he cautioned rather openly. Before I take anything, you have to take it. If you're fine after, then I'll let you treat me. He had no idea of her own illness so to speak, and honestly wouldn't have allowed himself to care even if he had known of her pregnancy. He needed to make sure that whatever that was, it would help him, not hurt him.

dalia stared, as his bold demeanor turned to something far more accusatory and... insulting. she stared at him, deadpan, before dipping down and lapping up the flower without a second word. "it was marigold," she told him after ingesting it, making a sour face for a split second before dipping to pick up another one, "and i wouldn't even have you ingest it, it goes on the wound. to fight infection. unless you'd rather die." what a moron. truth be told, dalia had no idea if it would hurt her pregnancy. she hadn't even thought about it -- it didn't cross her mind. 

with the second one, she did the same thing to it what she had begun to do to the first. "i'll also put on nettle leaves and then give you poppy seeds. for swelling and for pain. and i'd prefer not to waste my cache on myself, singe i am rather healthy and don't need any medication," she added, gaze still upon the marigold as she smashed it.

She explained things to him with the same stern-but-level manner that he came to expect out of healer women; he was reminded of Cigfa foremost, which would've been a compliment if she was known to any extent in these wilds. The comparison made Firefly miss the lost lands and the people there; the time he'd spend with them had been hard as he was fighting for his life, but the most worthwhile. Perhaps he should've headed back there instead of lingering in the wilderness — taken Yami to see it. Too late now.

As the girl listed further treatments, Firefly was quick to counter her — once he heard her speak of poppies he scoffed and shook his head, No, no poppies. I told you, you're not going to dose me with anything— but she spoke further and he stopped, listening, until there was quiet between them. He watched as she crushed the marigold. I can handle pain. Just stop the bleeding and help the skin mend, that's all I need.

You'll waste less that way.

dalia paused to look at him as he quickly turned away the poppies. she wouldn't fight him, but she wasn't sure how to respond... not many wolves would refuse help for pain. he seemed pretty concerned she was trying to murder him. which, in all honestly, was frustrating enough. she set a gentle sigh, but nodded. "no poppies," she repeated, gaze falling across her cache again as she continued to mush. and mush and mush. she didn't have any herbs to stop the bleeding, not currently, but she could apply pressure and cobwebs... that would still help. 

"just the marigold, then," she said, using a paw to swipe up the marigold. she turned towards him, seaglass eyes upon him as she waited for direct instruction, not in a position to be reprimanded for moving without his command. "and i'll cover it with cobwebs to help healing and to help the bleeding," she told him, as patiently as she could manage.

She relented and he felt confident that he'd convinced her of his power - although if that was necessary he'd never really know. Firefly felt it was. He couldn't help but feel like the whole pack would be trying to oust him from his place atop the pyramid and he'd sooner fight them to the death than be kicked aside as some unimportant detritus that had somehow wound up on their beach.

He'd fought their leader, and he was still standing. So he was their leader now and they would just have to deal with it. Perhaps living within Rusalka had changed Firefly's views on what was normal for a pack's heirarchy; perhaps his Drageda-inspired stress had molded him in to this other beast, lacking trust and trusting the darker natures of strangers.

Proceed. He commanded, feeling a little bit more like an asshole as he did so. To make it easier he reclined to his haunches in the dirt so that she could work on his shoulder, and maybe the wounds on his head, if so inclined. There were others now - fresher wounds - from the pair of wolves he'd encountered in the territory's heart. He waited a moment, and whenever Dalia began to work upon him, he commented quietly - My name is Firefly.

as he commanded, dalia moved forward to begin to work upon him, starting with his shoulder as he made it available for her. she smeared on the salve and then used her other paw to press the cobwebs over it. she was quiet, even as he introduced himself, as she worked, trying to decide what she'd say to him. what should she say to him? did he truly care to have a conversation? she was unsure. but she had business to attend to, all the same. just as he looked out for himself, fearful she'd poisoned him, dalia had to look out for himself. 

now seemed as right a time as ever. 

"i'm with child," she said gently, ears flicking at the comment -- it made her feel so whole to be so confident in her current state, nevermind her current wariness. "i want to know they will still be able to grow up here," she then said, pausing to glance at the man, though she was not so bold as to meet his eyes. "the man you replaced is not their father." the last part she added quietly, as if it was of important. she felt it was, regardless.

and then she began to press marigold to another wound.

He wasn't sure what to say, and had introduced himself - best to get to know the pack you've just taken over, right? But it didn't feel right to him - not even vaguely appropriate, which could've been why his voice was so quiet at the time. There was a momentary lapse as she worked and he was silent, not knowing if she would respond or merely work at the wounds upon his body.

When she did speak, the topic was of children. The very thing that had driven him from Rusalka. He should've anticipated as much due to the season. Firefly was silent as she explained herself but he found that he did not care one way or the other who the father was, and before the silence could come between them again he cut her off -- Good for you, but its none of my concern. There were better ways he could've concluded that topic, but Firefly wasn't going to let himself grow attached to this place, nor the people in it. He wasn't here to cause absolute havoc or change their way of life, whatever that may be. It truly was none of his business.

I don't know anything about you, or your people. Whatever arrangements you have with one another - they remain. But even as he was saying this, Firefly knew that if he took one look at those children he'd be forced to make a decision whether they were his own kids or not. The very concept brought up unwelcome feelings of dread, guilt, and an abysmal sense of longing he refused to acknowledge. With a huff, he turned his attention to the forest surrounding them - suddenly unwilling to engage.

"i see," she murmured gently, wondering now "then why are you here?" for what reason did he tear their system from their paws... if he wanted nothing to do with it? did he just want the title of power? why couldn't he go make something on his own? dalia, a submissive woman in all aspects, did not understand the draw of power.  

all the same, his answer wasn't very convincing. it was, more or less, the edge he gained after he spoke that drew her to question it. firefly turned away from her, peering out into the small, sandy forest beyond them, leaving dalia to wonder the validity of his words. what more could she say? surely, she couldn't argue. and tradition -- would that mean tradition would remain? dalia needed to speak with velen... she hoped he'd come around after firefly left, something told her she didn't want them in the same room together. 

she paused her work, briefly, noting the turn of his head a final time. "i am done here, unless you'd like those wounds cleaned up as well," she said, referring to the ones on his face and head. if he was so sour that he would not turn her way, so be it, but dalia would not force anything upon him. she did not know his nature, and she did not want to risk any injury to herself or her children.

She should've been grateful to him for his decision. Had another man come and taken the crown from their esteemed king then perhaps the children brewing in her belly would be at risk; but he was not that kind of man. He had run from his own responsibilities. Firefly was not going to show up, screw around with other people's lives, and expect them to be satisfied with it. They weren't his kids - that was the only blessing he could think of that would spare them.

No, he intoned a bit too sharply, and exhaled a deep breath. Thank you. You may go. It was empowering to have this girl doing as she was told; he felt more enamored by the power he held the longer he held it, unlike when he lived in Rusalka and still felt resistance for his decisions. This place would be different. The wolves would eventually curb to his will even if he had to tear them to pieces first — or drive them from the cliffs.

she dipped her head as he told her he didn't need anything else, but hesitated as he told her to go. this was her den, after all. her caches were stored here, perhaps, but dalia slept here with velen most nights, had begun to develop a corner even for whelping. she was coming home when she encountered him making a mess of her stores. which, speaking of, she needed to clean up. 

she took a half step away from him, trying to decide if she should leave or retreat further back into her den, before ultimately deciding she should just go find velen. "yessir," she said before dipping her head once more and vanishing into the woods, headed towards the beach where she assumed velen would be.