Some months had passed since the violence and violation that had been done to her. Physically, Syanna had made a full recovery—her body was back to its former glory and she was up and about, living her life as if she'd never been stopped. But mentally, emotionally, she was just going through the motions. Time had healed many of her wounds, but there were still deep-running scars left behind on her soul, some that she feared might never fully heal again. On a day to day basis, the vibrant-furred woman seemed like she'd settled back into her normal routines. She went about her job working with Gwynevere in the infirmary and keeping their pharmaceutical stores organized, tended to the gardens, all of her regular duties. But if one looked closely enough or watched her long enough, they might notice the subtle quirks, the ticks that gave away her fragile mental state.

Syanna, who had once been the veritable definition of confidence and fortitude, now moved much more carefully, as if thinking about every move she made. Loud noises would make her jump and her fur stand on end, she tried to avoid dark spaces and she didn't leave her room at night. She'd developed a habit of instinctively looking over her shoulder whenever she left a room, making sure nobody she didn't know was near her, and she kept herself enthralled in her work as if stopping for even a moment would be an egregious crime. She didn't turn down the company of her pack mates and she engaged in conversations that came to her, but she no longer sought them out the way she once had. It was like the vulpine-esque wolf had become a hollow effigy of her former self.

Today, Syanna was working in the infirmary, restocking some of the at-hand supplies they kept in the cupboards following the emergency treatment of Asheila. She wanted to be sure everything they could possibly need in an emergency situation was in its proper place and ready to go at a moment's notice. She stowed a few tinctures of trillium and elixirs of wintergreen in the cabinets, a small stash of fresh herbs on the table next to her waiting to be mixed up or stowed away. When it came to medical crises, a single second could be the difference between life or death for their patients. This urgency was what kept her motivated and moving—and what kept her from focusing on her own issues. The more she ignored it, the more it didn't affect her... right?

"Syanna"

Laeta hadn’t seen Syanna in some time - mainly not since the woman had helped tend to her when she was paralyzed. The momochromatic she-wolf had much to thank her for; from the dignity she was treated with, to the kindness and warmth she was grateful to have received. The Long Night had left a mark on her, but it was the combined efforts of friends and healers that she believed led to her miraculous recovery. There was so much she had Syanna to thank. And so, she sought to find the physician herself, and walk up to her in person. On all four legs - so that the vulpine lady could see with her own eyes how her medical expertise had saved her life. Little did she know of the woman’s plight, of her own horrific experiences that left her cautious, on edge, terrified. The sheer weight of the trauma that surely hung on the vupline woman’s shoulders, tearing at her soul. Lae had no idea, no notion. Not yet, anyways. The lithe, bony woman gently crept down the stone staircase of the castle, her joints occasionally cracking or popping like dry logs on a fire. Some aspects of her condition would never fade - like the early onset arthritis that plagued her bones. But she was able to move, and was otherwise healthy and active. One of many blessings Lae felt she had to count each day. She was able to recover from her ordeals, but everyone processed and dealt with trauma differently. Some memories could not be so easily overcome. They stuck to them, like sharp burrs on a pelt. Stinging, twisted, tangled, gnarled. Things that couldn’t be shaken no matter how hard one tried to rip them off, get away. Laeta turned the corner, her nose twitching at the faitn scent of herbs and medicated remedies. There was always a soothing undertone to such scents, and they made the infirmiry stand out among the rest of the castle - besides the kitchen’s meaty aromas, of course. She sent Mel to pick some flowers for her to press and fold into books, or arrange them in flower crowns to wear. It was probably best - considering Lae had a feeling Syanna would appreciate more privacy in their chat. That is, if she wasn’t terribly busy with her stocking. Ruby eyes glinting with the excitement of seeing the kind physician again, the striped woman gently padded towards the infirmary’s awning, toenails clicking the stone tile. Hopefully, her presence wouldn’t spook her - she felt guilty creeping up on others. The sight of the uniquely orange woman made Lae’s tail wag gently behind her as she gently cleared her throat and said, "Syanna, is that you? It’s me, Laeta." Her voice was soft but perhaps clear enough to hear through the silence, soft and mellow. Calming. She smiled, gently taking a step closer to the entrance to allow her full form to be seen. Her non-paralyzed, walking form. "It’s been a while, how have you been?" Laeta didn’t know the weight her last words would carry. ”Speech” ’Thought’

Glass vials clinked together softly while Syanna set the empty containers out on the desk beside the cabinet she was restocking, setting aside a large bottle of high proof alcohol and a few of the Hallows' most commonly used herbs. Gwynevere had wanted to keep some of the most frequent remedies distilled as tinctures for quick and potent release of the drugs in the case of an emergency or time sensitive matter, and Syanna had agreed with the prudence in that plan. Perhaps if they'd been doing that before, back when she'd returned to the Hallows after... maybe then she wouldn't have... Syanna chased those dark thoughts away with an abrupt shake of her head, swiftly returning to her work to keep herself distracted. She placed a few clean swatched of linen bandages away, along with some dried and preserved herbs, then focused on the mixtures she had to make.

The vivid foxlike woman dropped down from the cabinet to sit at the desk, using careful paws to fill each of the glass vials about half of the way up with the alcohol. Then she began to grind down the respective herbs in a pestle and mortar, the fragrant scents of elderberry, ginseng, and lavender filling the air. She then poured the ground up herbs into a bottle each, then topped it up with water to help dilute the alcohol, giving each a shake before letting them sit to steep. She then turned to the final vial and lifted the herb meant for it—and froze. She gazed down at the silphium in her paw, the most common type of birth control used in the Hallows. Her heart began to speed up as anxious memories flashed in her mind. She saw herself shoveling as much of the damned plant into her mouth as she could manage, desperate to try to undo the vile acts that had been done to her, like she had any hope of saving herself after her attack. Syanna swallowed hard, hearing the echoes of her own sobbing pleas to whatever gods existed in her memory while she practically overdosed on the contraception—all in vain, unfortunately.

The sound of claws clicking on the stone near her hadn't registered with her in her anxiety-induced trance, but the sudden voice did, snapping the healer back to reality. Green eyes blinked rapidly and Syanna's head snapped up to regard Laeta with wide eyes and a surprised expression. Not quite frightened, but definitely caught off guard. "Oh, Laeta, hello. Sorry, I was just... My mind was a million miles away." Syanna didn't elaborate while she set back to her work, placing the silphium into the mortar and beginning to grind it up to add to the tincture for emergency contraception. Syanna hadn't seen the other woman in some time, partially due to her own recovery she'd had to go through, but Lae was looking better and better every time she saw her.

"Yeah, it has been, huh? I'm sorry about that, I've... had some things going on," she replied, half in apology with a sheepish smile and folded ears. Then Lae asked the dreaded question and Syanna responded as if on autopilot. "I've been managing," she said much too quickly to be genuine. "How about you? You're looking much better! How are you feeling?" Was Syanna deflecting? Yes, 100%. Was she doing it as a defensive mechanism? Also yes. But was she doing it deliberately, or was this her fragile mind's way of trying to protect itself from further trauma?

"Syanna"

Laeta had clearly set the woman off her guard, the vixen-like wolf snapping up her head and blinking in surprise to see her. A twinge of sympathy settled in her chest as she noticed Syanna's anxious mannerisms, her fervent mixing of herbs and pouring alcohol in such an intensity that it was difficult not to assume the healer was more than just occupied. Syanna greeted the older woman anyways, apologizing for her mind being a million miles away. It was understandable to feel that way..even if Lae didn't know why yet. She just had a feeling the physician wasn't faring well. Did something happen? Perhaps it did. She'd only ever seen Syanna in a state of concern though, like when Lae had been first paralyzed and she'd diagnosed her ailment. She couldn't say she knew her enough to know her baseline either but she still furrowed her brow ever so slightly, a small smile crossing her lips for some form of reassurance. Syanna had apologized, mentioning she had things going on in her life. It was one thing to be busy due to your duties, but something about her distant tone, the nervous smile and tucked ears suggested a darker meaning behind it. Laeta was calm all the same - she didn't let her own mind get overwhelmed by her ability to sympathize - but it still made her heart sink in pity. Somthing was definitely wrong. This was not the calm, collected Syanna she'd known when the woman, herself, had been at her worst. Her subsequent replies didn't convince her. She's deflecting something, She thought, her brow furrowing tighter now. Lae was sharp enough to notice when someone was trying to chase away something painful - keeping attention away from themselves, distancing that aspect or topic to focus on someone else. Like the scholar herself. Settling onto her haunches as her hips popped, Lae tilted her head softly. "Oh, thank you Syanna," She said, deciding to reply to her deflective questions. "I feel I've made leaps and bounds in my recovery, thanks to you and Gwynevere." She let her words hang in the air for a moment, but her ruby eyes were looking intently at the physician. She wasn't shaken off so easily. She would never pry about something painful, or if someone didn't wish to talk, but she also was concerned for Syanna..like a packmate or a friend. "You mentioned you had some things going on..would you like to talk about it?" Laeta wasn't the type to pry, or force the words out of anyone's mouth. She wasn't like that, anybody who'd interacted with her knew that. She asked genuinely because she cared for Syanna's wellbeing just as she had cared for hers. Just one was more physical while this one was more..perhaps mental and emotional. Syanna was a healer of the body, but perhaps Lae set the balance by helping with the health of the mind and soul. ”Speech” ’Thought’

Syanna was acutely aware of Laeta's eyes boring into her, even when she wasn't looking at the dark-furred woman. She could feel the other woman's stare, feel it burning into her while she tried to focus on mixing her tinctures to perfection. They had to be perfect. No one else could be allowed to suffer the same fate she had if she could help it. Laeta thanked her for her concern, then related that she was indeed doing much better. That brought a more genuine smile to the healer's lips. "Good, I'm so glad we're able to help you. I'll admit, your recovery still baffles me sometimes, but I won't question a miracle when it happens." Dainty paws picked up each bottle and gave it a swirl, watching the floating herbs steeping in the alcohol as it slowly tinted the liquid a distinct color to match the plants that were used in them. As each one set and she was satisfied with what she saw, Syanna would carefully place them one by one in their appropriate spot within the medicine cabinet.

Laeta spoke again while Syanna was facing away from her, and the vixen-like wolf was glad her company couldn't see her expression—couldn't see the way her question had twisted a grimace of pain and humiliation on her usually measured countenance. Syanna's paws hesitated with a bottle in her grasp, seeming frozen in place by the question for a beat before she returned to life and stowed the medicine away. She cast a forced smile back over her shoulder to Lae, placing the last of the tinctures away and closing the cabinet doors. "Oh, I don't think you want to hear about it," she mumbled in nonchalant dismissal, acting more like the Scholar had asked her how her day had been and not about the rape she had endured. "It's... Nothing can be done about it anyway, so please, don't trouble yourself over me. I'll be fine."

Still trying to avoid eye contact, Syanna moved away from the cabinet and over to Gwynevere's desk to organize some of the notes and tchotchkes that littered its surface. All the while she worked, Syanna did her best not to look up at the shelves on the wall—specifically not at the wolf skull that sat on one of the shelves in particular. She didn't want to look at it and be reminded of what had happened.

"Syanna"

Having been put in life-threatening situations herself, Laeta could pick up on something wrong with Syanna. She had experienced something life-changing, in a very tragic way. Her ruby eyes glittered, softened with an instinctual sympathy towards the vixen, her heart sinking as she noticed her particularly obsessive method of aligning all the herbs perfectly. She understood Syanna to be well-organized, any good physician should, but her incredibly intricate eye to detail suggested an attempt to mask distress from a trauma rather than simply being neat. It concerned her deep to her core. She needs help, desperately, Lae thought to herself, frowning softly. How horrible wolves could be, stripping others of their ability to live their lives safely. The vixen replied she was pleased to see her recover, and Lae nodded, smiling ever so softly but still greatly worried for the woman in front of her. "I don't question it, either. Each day since then has been a blessing." But she was not swayed. Not even when Syanna turned away and she was unable to see her expression, but her fiddling with the bottles and tinctures led her to believe she had clearly experienced something of terrible magnitude. All the more reason to not so much pry as to gently encourage the woman to say what was going on. Lae tilted her head as Syanna tried to dismiss it - as if Lae had asked her about something as nonchalant as the weather. But this was not a casual topic, and Laeta knew that. She pressed onward. Though not wanting to pressure the poor woman into reliving her trauma, she was stubborn enough not to let her drown in her thoughts, either. "Syanna..I will not tell a soul. What you say will remain between the two of us. Something happened to you, and I can help you - at least by listening. I care about you. I can tell you are struggling, and I'll sit here as long as you want or need," She said finally, her words soothing like lavender and honey. She would hear Syanna out as much as she wished to omit. But she would not leave a packmate who had helped her to surffer alone. "You helped me through my darkest hours. I can do my best to help you through yours." ”Speech” ’Thought’