Sun Mote Copse dead as dead can be

@Niamh @Phox @Towhee

He was still struggling, and it had been days, weeks? since he had been struck. But his body, it seemed, was no longer his own. It moved by itself, muscles spasming—clenching, jumping—without his control. And then there was his brain. He still did not who he was or what he’d been doing on that mountain in the first place. It had taken five hours for his legs to function well enough that he could tumble face-first down the mountain. By the time he’d reached bottom, he was so scratched and bruised and covered in mud that the side-effects of the lightning strike had seemed… trivial. 

Punishment.

He wandered for days, lost both physically and mentally. Chirping birds sounded like bullets in his brain, yet other sounds went unheard. He tried to hunt smaller animals, to chase them down, but running caused his body to feel like it had been pounded by a thousand falling rocks. He followed rivers, streams. Once, out of sheer luck, he managed to catch a fish. But it was not enough. He filed his belly with so much water that he felt he might explode, but that could not stop the gnawing hunger that made his already-weak limbs weaker. He was useless.

A blinding flash. Pain. Paralysis. Why had he been up there? What purpose was this all serving?

He followed the sound of cawing crows once, despite their calls causing blinding flashes of light to pulse into his brain. He found a dead deer, most of its meat stripped already. The crows pecked angrily at him as he ate what was left, but their beaks were no match for the daily pain he had been suffering with. The mouthfuls of meat, and the marrow in the bones, were enough to carry him forward, though what he was looking for, he wasn’t sure.

Eventually, he stumbled, dazed, through a swamp and out the other side. The mud and gunk clung to his fur and eventually dried, caking him in foul-smelling dirt. Along the edge of a forest, the smell of other wolves punched him in the face and he collapsed in exhaustion and relief. Perhaps they would take him in, feed him. Or perhaps they would drive him away, to his death, or kill him where he lay. Either way, it would be an end to his suffering.

Suffering. Punishment. Perdition.

He howled for whoever might hear him, and the effort left his head swimming.

A blinding flash. Pain. Why? Punishment.

Punishment. Pain. Suffering. Sin.

Perdition.

Unfortunately for the man, the first to hear him was no one of any import.  Fennec was nearby, tracing the edges of the territory to ensure the waters had truly receded.  It was no longer as dangerous for her to wander, but she still was more cautious now than she had been.  It would be a week or two, at least, before she felt as comfortable assuming.

At first she was tempted to ignore the howl, but then she smirked and figured 'what the hell'.  Her dad and Niamh were busy; Towhee wouldn't hear it.  Besides, from the sound of it, this wolf wasn't a threat.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell of him when she closed in.  You sound like shit, she said, hanging back.  She could only guess where he was, so her voice was louder than it might need to be.

… like shit…

There was a ringing in his brain. He’d been asleep, maybe still was. The moment he felt semi-awake, the muscle tics started again. His shoulders twitched of their own accord. He grimaced, his face in a snarl, from the pain. The muscles in his back bunched up, refusing to un-clench. 

You sound…

He opened his eyes with a grunt, shockingly sapphire eyes roaming the treeline, looking for the voice. For all he knew, the voice was just a hallucination. So far, he’d only heard his own voice in his head, but he was aware enough to understand that sometimes he got… confused.

A sandy-colored young wolf stood nearby. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, groaning from the pain and the energy it took. He shook his head. YOU SOUND LIKE SHIT.

His ears went back along his skull as the girl’s full message finally came to him. Whether it sounded louder than it needed to because she’d been speaking too loudly or because his ears and brain just weren’t normal anymore was lost on him.

He kept his head down, breathing heavily, “Do I?” he asked, voice gruff from disuse. “That… seems about right.”

Pain from nerve damage lanced down his left front leg, tracing one of the paths of the lightning scars that traced his back and shoulders and ran slightly down both front legs. He grimaced, grunted, shook himself. Lifted his head to look at the girl. “Where—

Sin.

Punishment.

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to feel the mud beneath his paws. To stay in the moment. He took a breath. Opened his eyes, searching. Where had she gone…? He found her, still there. The sandy girl. “Where am I?”

He was close.  Fortunately, she was expecting an answer, so did not flinch.  If his howl had sounded bad, his voice confirmed it.  The smell, the tone... whatever the fuck this guy had been through, he was obviously a mess.  Fennec let out a breath in a huff when he asked where he was.  He was kidding, right?

You don't know?  It was just... too tempting.  She hadn't played with someone in a long while, and while she knew she might catch hell for it, it was against her nature not to test that edge.  You're in the Witch's glen.  Might want to make yourself scarce, before she makes you her prisoner too.  She'd especially want you, you already smell like you'd fit right in.

Her voice was deadpan as ever, but she felt a little wistful as she delivered the lie.  Wraen would have probably liked that one.  It was too bad she wasn't around anymore.

It took a lot of energy to focus on the girl—her words, even her location. He was so tired from dealing with chronic pain and so weak from the after-effects of the lightning strike and lack of food that it was hard enough just to keep his head up. But he’d made it this far and he refused to die right at the edge of possible salvation.

Salvation with a lower-case s. Not Salvation. He was far from that. Didn’t know if he’d ever reach it.

The girl’s words came to him as if from far away, muffled slightly from his hearing loss. “A witch, huh?” he asked. “Well. A month ago I would have figured you were lying, but… I was recently struck by lightning, and then fell face-first down a mountain, and somehow lived. So a witch seems… plausible.” A very small smile graced his lips, and it felt foreign to him. “Assuming you’re not… pulling my leg… do you think she could fix me?” His voice held a note of humor, yet it also trembled, as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, looking over the edge and wondering whether to jump.

A shot of pain stabbed him between the shoulder blades. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes against the feeling.

She hadn't considered the fact that most witches in the stories were also healers, of sorts, until he said it.  That actually made her freeze, and then smile... because it brought with it the cool fact that maybe, one day, she could actually claim the title.  How cool would that be?  Fennec, witch of the glade.  It was her first genuine smile since Penn and it felt really, really good.

Maybe.  Fennec moved forward cautiously.  If nothing had clued him in thus far,  the fact that she moved without tracking with sight might, as might the fact that she didn't look at him when she spoke.  Instead she kept her head forward and stepped with delicate purpose, her ears constantly turning to take in his words and what it meant for his position.

Lightning, though?  She sounded skeptical.  No way.  You sound like shit, but you aren't dead.  She gave a sniff, then made a noise of distaste.  You smell too.  C'mon, there's a stream close.  She wasn't checking him until he washed some of this off.

He’d been so caught in his own pain and misery that he had not noticed before now that she was blind. But he saw it in the way she moved towards him. She didn’t look at him, but kept her head straight, moving cautiously, almost like a deer. Her ears swiveled almost constantly as she walked. She moved closer to him, but her nose crinkled when she got close enough. 

She did not believe he had been struck, and he couldn’t blame her skepticism—especially since she couldn’t see his lightning scars. Without visible proof, he wasn’t sure there was any way to convince her that he wasn’t lying. Perhaps once he cleaned himself off he’d let her touch the scars, if she really needed answers. He blinked, shivered. The thought of letting someone touch the place where God had struck him… Perhaps he wouldn’t let her, after all.

He followed behind her, stiffly, as she led him to wherever they were going. A stream. Washing off the gunk that had clung to him for days sounded good, and the water might soothe some of his muscle soreness, though he wasn’t sure if anything would help the nerve damage. That pain seemed to turn on and off at random. He grit his teeth and forced himself to follow as a muscle in his leg spasmed. The spasms didn’t always hurt, but they were always annoying. 

“Thank you,” he said to her, as they walked along.

When Phox arrived to find Fennec walking along with some random stranger, he felt the sudden urge to attack-on-sight. Fennec had had plenty of friends, some of whom were guys, but there was something prickly about seeing his daughter with somebody Phox didn't know. He knew Fennec could take care of herself, but even if she hadn't been blind, he would have felt the same protectiveness (or so he told himself). He would have felt the same about Q or Alyx, right?

Fennec, he greeted warmly before turning to the bedraggled-looking stranger. And who're you? he asked, although his tone for this question was quite a bit sharper. Ah, that good ol' elitism hadn't entirely died out with time.

Fennec smiled when he thanked her, but took care not to get distracted.  We can talk about what you'll owe me later, she replied, though she knew it was mostly a lie.  All she really saw in him was an opportunity to experience, on her own, what she hoped to learn from Eljay.  She didn't stop to think that he might benefit from more practiced care.  He needed help and she needed to learn.

They were nearly there when Phox interrupted them.  Fennec opened her mouth to tell him hello, then dismiss them, but her ears tipped back with annoyance at his curt question.

I was taking him to clean himself up first. she said, taking a tone that normally she didn't with either parent.  She was leaning into the witch she'd pretended to be, and witches didn't bend to anyone when it came to their customers.  Right?

Besides, she had as much right to help as anyone did.  He didn't seem able to manage much harm even if he wanted to.

’We can talk about what you’ll owe me later.’

The words rattled around in his brain. What he’d owe her… Yes, he supposed it was only fair to give her something in return for healing him. Or wait… Was she the witch? Or was she taking him to the witch. He didn’t know… Had they confirmed it either way? Knowing him, they could’ve had an entire conversation and he might have forgotten it somewhere along the way. It didn’t matter. If she healed him, or took him to someone who could, he would pay whatever he needed to. No matter the cost.

A male wolf, large and dark, appeared out of thin air. He assumed that the male had walked over to them and he’d simply missed that part. He stared at the male unintentionally, eyes wavering, trying to figure out if he was real. Things around him often seemed… unstable. 

The words between the dark male and the blind girl went on without him, their voices muffled and far away. He shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, trying to bring his hearing back into focus. A high-pitched ringing sounded in his head. He grunted as it caused sharp pain in his head. 

’And who’re you?’

His eyes opened, sapphire-blue orbs once again staring at the male. He opened his mouth. “I’m…”

Who are you? Your name? What’s your name? 

“My—my name…”

Your name… who are you? Who are you? What is your name?

You are… broken. You are sin. You are punished. 

Perdition.

He shook his head, growling, trying to clear the voice—his own inner voice, the one that explained to him why God had struck him down.

YOU ARE PERDITION.

“Perdition!” The word tore from his throat almost of its own accord. “I am… Perdition.” He stood, panting, unstable, head down. He stared at the mud between his paws, and his body spasmed, twitching and quivering as nerve pain lanced across his back and down his shoulders. His legs shook with the effort of remaining upright. “Forgive me,” he said quietly. “I am not in my right mind since… the lightning strike.”

Fennec said she'd been taking him to clean him up, and Phox quirked a brow. What did that mean? And why did she sound so... not off, but something. The stranger introduced himself as Perdition (finally), and Phox gave him a blank stare as he explained that there had been a lightning strike. Is he staying, then? Phox asked Fennec. He had to keep reminding himself that she was an adult, although this time his question came more naturally. He trusted her judgement on whether or not this stranger should be allowed to live among them.

Fennec ignored the guy, aside from the name.  Perdition, what a weird one, though it suited him.  He definitely wasn't normal, from what she'd seen, and she was intensely curious what the lightning had done.  She wasn't convinced he wasn't lying, of course, but if he was actually hit there had to be some wicked effects.  She'd never seen lightning, but she'd smelled it... and it always set her fur on edge in the best way.

I don't care, she said, surprised he was asking her that.  All I was doing was letting him go to the river and seeing what was wrong under the mud.  After that, he can go do whatever he was doing before.  

Her ears swiveled, and she slowed down, the telltale sound of the water hitting her ears.  Was she missing something?  She was all well and good with being allowed to do things, but deciding who stayed and went was definitely not on her resume of skills worth having.  God, being a greeter had to be even worse than being a healer.  Could you imagine?

More words were exchanged between the blind girl and the dark male. As they spoke, he—Perdition, now—tried to pull himself together a little better. He sat down to conserve energy, breathing slowly and deeply. A twitch began in his left shoulder, which he did his best to ignore.  He kept his head down, half from exhaustion and half because he knew his fate lay in the hands (paws) of these two wolves. If they accepted him, he would do all he could for them and their kin. If not… he would be forced to move on. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take without a rest, but he didn’t intend to give up and die.

“If it helps,” he said, his voice still hoarse and cracking, “I can fish. I can track larger prey, too, I just can’t… hunt them. I’ve been wandering alone and injured for days, so I guess that means I’m physically strong.” He closed his eyes in shame, shame at what he had become—this… shell of his former self. Whoever that had been. “Perhaps the symptoms of my injuries will lessen over time, and I will become more useful to you. If you take me in, I…” He lifted his head and looked the male in the eyes, momentarily glancing at the girl, as well, though he knew she couldn’t see him. “I will do what I can for you.”

He had to hope that this pitch, pathetic as it was, was enough. “If you don’t want me, I understand. Just let me clean myself off in the stream and I’ll be on my way.”

Welcome!

Fennec didn't seem too pressed one way or the other to let this guy in, and Phox gave him another sideways glance. Fennec seemed interested in diagnosing whatever problem he had, which was a surprise (but a welcome one, to be sure). As for Perdition, he seemed at least somewhat interested in sticking around, and Phox nodded to him.

Fair enough. Looks like you'll be under Fennec's care. She can kick you out if she doesn't need you any longer, but you're welcome to stay until then. Welp, Fennec, this was part of adulting: taking on responsibilities. Have fun!

Once you're healed up, come and find me and I'll put you to use, Phox said. He paused for a moment before turning away, leaving Perdition and Fennec to play doctor. (Get your mind outta the gutter, kiddos.)

Fennec grinned, an expression perhaps distressingly similar to a smirk, as Phox put the new guy firmly in her care.  Excellent.  He'd give her a great test run, and since he was new, was unlikely to do much if she fucked up.  It wasn't like she'd kill him, or even hurt him.  She just had no clue what was wrong with him, so no idea if she could actually help.  It was the perfect no-stress way to find out.

C'mon.  She could feel the bank descending and approximated this to be a pretty good spot to access the shallows.  She figured he could at least get himself into the water without drowning.  

Thanks, dad. She added, a little softer, to whatever direction he'd spoken from.  Whether she caught him before leaving or not, that was all she got out before following her new patient down to the water.  As she went, she asked, Okay, now, what symptoms?  He hadn't gotten there yet, far as she remembered.

It seemed Perdition’s fate would be left to that of a blind child. Perdition couldn’t help but smile at the irony of that: a broken man being left to the devices of a blind girl. He dipped his head in respect to the dark male. “Thank you,” he said, and then turned to follow Fennec. 

The girl asked him what symptoms he had, and Perdition tried to think of all of them as he trailed along behind her to the stream. “Pain in my back, shoulders, and legs,” he began. “It happens suddenly, and goes away just as suddenly… My hearing seems to go in and out, voices being muffled sometimes… Sometimes I become confused, forget where I am. Some ringing in my ears.” He paused, trying to think of anything else. “My muscles twitch a lot, on their own.”

There was mental trauma, too, but he didn’t want to get into that with a girl he hardly knew, even if her pack had just taken him in. Besides, he didn’t think there was any sort of medicine that would heal his mind. He’d just have to deal with that on his own.

Fennec listened carefully to the symptoms as he listed them and thought, silently, a stretch after.  She wouldn't help him to clean himself unless it sounded he was having problems... it seemed at the moment like he was just tired, and the cold water might do him some good.

She remembered how it was for her, on some level, when her world changed.  It had been disorienting for a number of reasons.  While what was wrong with him might be physical, it could be mental too.  How do you sleep? she asked after.  There were a few things that could help with the pain, but the rest she'd need to ask Eljay about.  She had no idea how to help muffled hearing or confusion.  If the confusion could be helped by better rest, though, this was something she could follow up on.

She'd ask a few more questions and try to diagnose him.  If it was sleep she'd offer something to help, if it was pain she'd give him something to manage it, and if there were wounds she'd help to clean them.  Nothing advanced, but with her limited knowledge, she'd do all she could.