Wapun Meadow Plates and Saucers
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Like a sodden sparrow, she flounced through the wildflowers with the spring of an antelope in her step. The grasses were dappled with tiny droplets of water, but at least the grey skies held any impending rainfall within their undulating depths. She was wondering if the sun might even come out as she galloped along, bright eyes searching here and there for- ah! There it was. She sped through the grazzes, zig-zagging to avoid the prick of burdocks, until she found the plant she'd been searching for. 

Not far away, she'd established a bit of a cache, and had been adding herbs to it as she came across them. Once she found the feathery, green plant she began to dig it up, careful not to disturb the bulb. The flowers had long since gone to seed, and she shoped to use those too- fennel could be useful for a number of things, and the seeds could be stored for quite some time. There was a fair patch of them, so she continued, digging one plant up after the other, flinging dirt out between her hind legs with wreckless abandon.
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crossing his forelegs, merrick stared balefully toward the coffee-cream figure cutting a swathe through his meadow. it was too difficult, even with skoll's faithful markings, to keep the largesse of the meadow marked in all places. and so, though it remained an extension of ursus, merrick could not call war upon the head of each trespasser.
he parted his jaws in a resentful yawn, hoped fervently the figure might slip in the wet grass. merrick might have ignored the wolf all the same, had not the throwing of dirt kept his attention, and the distracted nature of the stranger began to spawn that low and familiar hunger in his gut.
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#3
In her eagerness to dig up the fennel, she failed to notice the cloaked figure observing her casually from a distance, and also failed to realize that her enthusiasm carried her a bit too far into her task. Fixated upon the job of digging the plants up, she simply went from one to the next- and no sooner had she unearthed the root system of one then she'd honed in on the next and began to uproot it as well, leaving behind a small trail of felled plants and scattered piles of damp earth which was flung haphazardly behind her. She stopped only when a bee buzzed too closely to her muzzle for comfort- prompting her to jerk her head up and snap at the fat, fuzzy bumbling insect. An act she immediately regretted. 

She clapped her mouth shut, capturing the bumblebee in its entirety inside her mouth, a buzzing, fuzzy surprise that had a sudden, sharp repercussion as it promptly dug its stinger into the roof of her mouth. With a yelp she leapt backwards and flailed her head around, tongue hanging out as she frantically tried to shake it loose, looking somewhat like a bucking horse. Eventually, after a few whipping head tosses, the bee was flung out of her mouth into the grasses leaving behind a stinger that she wriggled out with her tongue despite the inflammation that had already begun to make her muzzle swell up. 

Miserable and feeling sorry for herself, she dropped into what might've looked like a play-bow, though the woebegone nymph did so in order to bury her throbbing muzzle beneath her dirty forepaws, squinting her eyes against the pain as she moaned softly, and tried to brainstorm what might be the best treatment for a beesting inside her mouth...An injury she'd honestly never had to treat before. It was hard to think over the pain.
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he continued to go unnoticed, but when the wolf began to thrash about, merrick's torn ears lifted. he was loping across the meadow scarcely before he knew it, skulking, predatory — he lapped saliva from his lip as he circled the anguished woman.
young, pretty. guileless, from the look of it; upon his very doorstep. no blood to be had in a very long time.
"what happened?" the cyclops purred, faux concern layered upon the burn of his single eye. pained, pained; he could scent her turmoil, distracting, appropriating her senses as he wished to do.
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It took a few moments for Myrtle to see past her misery to realize that she was being circled by a wolf with one lustrous, lamp-light orange eye. She uttered a soft moan and sank her hips to the ground, tucking her beige tail about her hindquarters when she realized how silly she probably looked. Dolefully, she looked up at the male, noticing the slight dew of salivation upon his lips but she failed to look past his words and recognize his insincerity. She slowly pulled her paws away from her muzzle, which she'd been covering, to reveal lips and a pink tongue swollen from the bee's sting. 

It was obvious enough what had happened, and she felt both sheepishly ashamed of her stupidity. She uttered a soft, pleading whine and searched his features for a reaction- hoping for pity and empathy- before her gaze fell and she turned her head away. It was bad enough feeling the throbbing and swelling of her palate without having an audience to see just how horrible it made her look.
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"nasty little bastards," merrick chuffed in solidarity, clucking over her bulbous tongue and swollen face. her eyes, haunted by the sudden pain, fell to his own, and he stretched a thin veneer of worry across the analyzing snake in his mind.
"you know, we have an excellent medic," merrick purred, thinking not of the medicine den, but the bone-tomb of dried femurs and skulls and teeth that his queen kept. "and places to be out of the rain. you don't want to stay here in the mud, do you?" merrick urged, circling the velveteen maiden once more with a gesture toward the gates of ursus, across the meadow.
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She sulked, her anguish and frustration validated by the male who seemed to empathize with her situation. Maybe he'd been stung before too- though this wasn't something she'd wih on anyone else. It was one thing to be stung on a leg, or even on the behind- but the throbbing pain coming from inside her mouth, and radiating through her skull was insufferable. 

She perked up a bit, though, when the stranger offered the aid of not only a medic, but access to a place that would be safe and dry. "I'b a bedic," She said, the eagerness which would otherwise be present in her tone muffled somewhat by her swollen tongue. "Bud yesh, ugh, I'd lub subwhere dry. D'you dow if your bedic hash calendula? Or barsh barigold?" She asked, rising to her feet and lowering her head, showing her willingness to follow him wherever it was he thought would be safe and dry, and potentially a place she could treat her bee sting.
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#8
he could barely make out what the woman was saying through her beestung mouth. "i am sure he has anything you might need. he keeps it all so ... neat," merrick laughed softly, beginning to back toward ursus, leading her through the soft wet grass and its profusion of blossoms.
"lots of experience treating all of us," the man mused, falling into step alongside the woman. she was silkweed and velveteen, soft-edged. clay to be molded by the ones who gave themselves in service to the bear.
"i'm merrick," he introduced by and by, shifting his one eye to her pained, lovely face once more.
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#9
While she was still wallowing in self-pity, Myrtle was kindly reassured when she was told that there would be supplies readily available for her. A neatly stocked herb den? She could hardly believe it. "Ohh, thank you!" She whimpered, and as he fell into step beside her, she meekly reached out to touch her crown to his shoulder, a gesture to show her appreciation. There was an airy yet earthen scent to his pelt, an alluring musk that accompanied his casual, uninhibited aura. He was effortlessly charming, she thought- much more easygoing than most other strangers she met. And she didn't, for a second, fathom he had anything to hide. 

She had noticed his scars, though- and when he spoke of his medic, she was drawn to glean perhaps a vague glimpse of what might've been a more sinister lifestyle than what she would've suspected of someone as kind as him. The medic, he said, treated the pack members often. Given the amount of scars Merrick had, she inferred that there had been some sort of conflict- but he seemed so gentle, so helpful...She leapt to the conclusion that he'd been a victim, once- attacked or hurt by some sinister foe, and found herself sympathizing with the devil who captivated her with his charm. She thought to ask him about his comment, to see why it was his comrades so often demanded the skill of their medic- but she felt it would be rude, especially given the fact that he was offering to share his herbs with her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt instead. "Hobefully not all from bee stigs," She said. Bee stings were miserable- she wouldn't wish a bee sting on any other, especially now. 

He introduced himself, and she found herself enamoured even further, with the soft and endearing sound of his name. She smiled faintly. "Can I call you Berry? Er...Merry?" It was a cheeky question- and took some effort to enunciate given the fact that her nasal cavity was swollen, but she was a mischevious young thing, who liked nicknames. "I'm Byrtle. Ugh. Mmmmmyrtle," She said. But she shrugged, and as a compromise- or perhaps in an attempt to make a deal with him, she added "But you cab call me Byrtie if you want."
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"merry," he deciphered. "you know, i've never had a nickname before. you may," he told myrtle. her own title was fitting; gentle, eloquent despite the injury, and a good-natured sort of thing altogether. her own was not at all suited for his shoulders, where it sat like an ill-gotten cape. but it was there all the same, merry, merry, merry.
something jovial and wintry while droplets of hot red blood melted through a clean new snow.
he had enjoyed her touch; it was submissive, grateful, innocent of who he was. the sort of thing to which one could become accustomed, at their own peril.
the grass began to fan back into the path of once-dirt, now rust-red mud and crushed rock leading into bearclaw. atop the sentry stone, the shadow of a wolf, watchful as the self-appointed shepherd brought another into the fold. through the darkfall of trees, merrick loped.
"his name is @Evien," he told her as they emerged into the clearing where the young physician kept mosskeep tidy, neatly arranged, and stocked to the gullets, from what merrick assumed. or perhaps not; he was ignorant of the plant numbers but fully dedicated to his faith in the man's abilities. "you will be in good hands with him."
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Evien did keep his den tidy and all of his herbs in perfect order, thank you very much. He was napping, though, in his little section of the den. The weather was bad and he was tired, but he'd stocked his herbs up and his chores were done, so he deserved a little nap, he thought. 

Merrick's voice woke him. 

Stirring slowly, the chocolate brown wolf stretched, letting out a yawn and popping his spine before he limped outside to meet the Bruin-witch.

He padded up to him and brushed his cheek along Merrick's shoulder when he got close enough, affectionate and sleepy and not even really registering the female's presence just yet. But his eyes widened a bit when he spotted her. "Oh, shit," he remarked, brows raising as he regarded the stranger's swollen face. "What happened to you?"
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Myrtle's pained gaze brightened a bit when she was given permission to call him by the nickname she'd coined. He seemed like the type of wolf who should have had a nickname, something endearing and sweet to match his graciousness. She moved alongside him, every now and again glancing over just to catch a glimpse of him, and found the corner of her mouth tug upwards as she did so. If only her mouth didn't hurt her so much- they could have had such a wonderful conversation!

At first, Myrtle didn't see Evien, his earthy pelt allowing him to blend in with the subtle tones of clay in his environment. But when he unraveled from his sleeping position and moved forth, Myrtle regarded him with reverence as he approached, to greet Merry with a kindly gesture, which further improved Myrtle's impression of the Ursus wolves. When he startled, she crouched slightly, tail waving from side to side as an apology for surprising him. She was aware that she likely looked nothing like herself, with her muzzle and tongue swollen, but at least his evergreen gaze was concerned, not critical. "Bee stig," She said. She looked to Merrick, as though to confirm that she had permission to request help- before she looked sheepishly to Evien again. "D'you hab calendula?" She asked, her tongue aching with every articulation.
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#13
can be skipped! <3

evien came at once, pelt tidy, laced through always now with the scent of green things and crushed things and the coolwater place nearby. he had chosen well, merrick thought, both of evien's choice for ursus and his own for the young doctor. smoothing his own muzzle along the side of the physician's shoulder, appreciative of the affection, he looked upon their patient.
"bees think they rule the meadow," the boy remarked, though he was happy to step back now, nodding with encouragement toward myrtle. evien ruled this place; he would recuse himself to loll beneath a nearby tree, content to remain as he was until he was needed again.
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Evien's affection was returned, and the woman responded quickly - albeit with some struggle, due to her swelling muzzle. A small smirk crawled onto his own and he nodded his head in response to her question. "Sure," he responded, jerking his head for her to follow him into the den. 

Bees kind of did rule the meadow, with all the flora growing around. They just had to be more careful.

"Wait here," he'd suggest, gesturing toward the spring before he hopped back up into his own den and went to sort through the herbs. A bit of marigold, a couple of poppy seeds, and some moss.

The medic would return to the spring and soak the moss, pulling it out and squeezing it into a dip in the floor. He would crush the dried marigold leaves and poppy seeds and allow them to soak in the spring water, so that it made a sort of liquidy paste that she could drink. 

"I'm assuming the stinger is out?" he asked her, tipping his head to the side.
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A doleful but appreciative look was given to Merrick, whose comment brought a slight but slender smile to her lips as she barely caught Evien's motion, and followed him. When instructed, she waited for him, and approached the gently flowing stream, gazing softly, mournfully at her distorted reflection. When he returned, he brought with him things she recognized- but given the fact she was the patient and he the medic, she knew better than to question his methods. After all, she was a willing student even if she was already fairly well-versed. She would be drowsy, afterwards- but at least she knew what she was in for. 

Knowingly, she sipped up the medication, albeit slowly and painfully. But as a medic herself, she knew to be a patient without complaint. To his question, she nodded her head. "Nnhnn," She supplied, "Tank you," She tacked on, as a show of her appreciation, though she couldn't help but glance past him toward the den where he'd brought the herbs from. She scolded herself, lowering her gaze to the ground- it was enough for him to offer her herbs, without asking him about his collection as well.
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"The poppy seeds are just for pain," he told her, though he was sure she already knew that. "And since you asked for the marigold yourself, you surely know what it's for." It might be nice to have another medic around, actually, he thought, though part of him bristled at the idea. Perhaps he was a bit possessive of his pack - definitely protective, and he didn't really trust other hands to take care of them. He was the best for the job.

She seemed nice, really, and he didn't want to get too irritated at the glance toward his stock of herbs. A bit defensive - nobody was allowed to touch that. He'd worked too hard to gather and sort them into perfect piles for someone to mess them up. "Are you thinking of joining Ursus?" he asked, making himself useful by cleaning up the rest of the herb water with a pat of moss.
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A weak smile and a nod were given to show appreciation and understanding, but a low rattle of a chuckle burbled in her throat. "You just tryn-a mmake me silly," She jested, though it was a very faint attempt at humour, as the roof of her mouth was still sore and swollen. She knew that if consumed in excess, the poppy seeds might have made her intoxicated, and lower her inhibitions and for a wolf who had few to begin with, and Evien would have definitely had his hands full. As it were, she figured the maximum effect of this dose might just make her a bit more relaxed, and sleepy. 

He didn't offer to show her his cache, and instead switched the subject. She felt a bit ashamed, having tried to get a peep into the darkness and see what it was he had stashed away...For some reason, she got the feeling that this was an herb den that was well-stocked, and well managed. He had every reason to not want her going anywhere near it even though she did have knowledge of those plants. 

For a moment, it seemed like she might have been getting an invitation to join the pack, but then she considered the fact that they already had Evien. "Seebs like you already hab a good bedic," She said softly, regretfully.
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#18
i'm so sorry i didn't see a reply here

The dosage would only take the edge off the pain and perhaps make her a little sleepy. "Sure am," he teased lightly, a small smile forming on his maw. "You caught me." At least she seemed like she had a good sense of humor. Whether she stayed or not, he had enjoyed their conversation. 

A bit of guilt bubbled in his chest at the regret in her tone and he sighed heavily through his nose. "A mediocre medic," he admitted, stepping back and sitting down. "I do my best." He wouldn't ask her to stay, or tell her to go. Ultimately it was up to Merrick to make that decision, and her, if she wished to stay.
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#19
last for me <3

it was not to be, her staying, it seemed; merrick tossed his head as the delicate little thing took to their borders. "better luck another time," he clucked to evien. "and she was right: we do have a very good medic." the healing arts were unknown to him, but the man had done perfectly by ursus. "care for lunch?" if evien accepted, merrick would strut off toward the meadow, and if he did not, the bearwolf would do the same, a casual swagger carrying him back out ward the wildflowers.
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#20
Evien hadn't been worried that she would take his place or anything like that. The woman was kind and gentle, but this seemed to simply be a bad match for the time being. Merrick was cheerful, however, and Evien offered him a small smile at the praise. "I get a lot of practice," he remarked in turn, then nodded his head at the mention of lunch. "That sounds good." And then he'd follow the other man back into the territory to join him for a meal.

// fade