Altavro Of The Nomads

In a display of stubbornness that should have gotten his ears boxed, Altavro had waited until there was no other choice. The early autumn air felt unbearably cold against his heated skin, and with every few steps, the golden male shivered violently as he plodded along. The fever made it nearly impossible to think - all he wanted was to be warm - any kind of heat would do, really. Maybe a warm, tame fire to curl beside or another wolf or anything but oh gods he was cold. And Altavro knew that that was bad. Still, he had refused to admit that he needed help at first. He was a Nomad, which ought to have meant that he could take care of himself. But his damn foolish self had gone exploring where he shouldn't have been, and he had gotten himself cut up where he couldn't keep the wounds clean, and they had gotten infected, as he had suspected they might. Now his body was at war with its invaders, and Altavro was definitely suffering. The world seemed to be spinning, but even if he staggered a little bit (or a lot, wow), the wolf soldiered on, heading for the only wolf that he knew could heal him - Erani. Or any of her healers, he supposed, but there was a multitude of Nomads that had reached varying stages of their training in that pack and he kne that that was what he needed. Even with his brain fuzzy and strange images flickering across his vision, Altavro knew what he needed. The wounds in question looked nasty; pus-filled and red and too warm for it too be a good sign, and gods above did they hurt. Every once in a while, his vision swam as something came in contact with his sides or back, and Altavro whimpered a little, a soft expression of his pain that one rarely heard from the grumpy male. For the moment, he was nothing more than fever and pain and a desperate desire to not die - no grumpiness, no anger, just his most basic instincts driving him to survive. Again, the male shivered as the scents of Valhalla danced beneath his nose, twining with what almost seemed to be his mother's scent. Altavro looked confused by that, blue eyes scanning the horizon for the familiar golden form of the female that had raised him. But there was nothing - no one there. She wasn't there. So why could he smell her? His front legs slowly buckled and Altavro dropped onto his stomach, pulling his tail in tight around his frame in a vain attempt to warm himself up. A whine escaped him, but he couldn't really remember what he'd come here for. It had been something important, but his mind was too fuzzy to really figure out what it was. Maybe his mother would come warm him up. That would be nice. It was unseasonably cold. Gods, this was miserable.

Surreal Adravendi

Surreal was one happy wolf. As yet, though, she hadn?t talked to her mother about Falk. She doubted her mother would be angry about her daughter being in love with a male who very clearly returned the feelings, but still, she was a little nervous; after all, it wasn?t every day that you could tell your mother that your were in love. But she wanted her mother and Falk to meet. Falk had gone back to tell Taurig about them, and track his sister down. So Surreal went about her duties as a Beta with a smile on her face. The smile fell, however, as she spotted a sandy golden form buckling to the ground on the borders. Surreal broke into a trot, slowing as she came to within speaking distance of the stranger. The swollen red, pus oozing injuries on the male that she could see mad her nose wrinkle. She knew a little about healing, her knowledge growing more lately due to how her mother ran the pack, and she could tell the injuries were badly infected. The male radiated heat, yet shivered as though nothing on earth would warm him. Fever. She stepped forward, glancing over at Alsander, whom she had forgotten was with her on the patrol; wandering mind, you know. ?Get mother? I?ll try and get him further in, maybe even to Mother?s den.? Her cousin nodded, bounding away toward the heart of the Territory. Surreal?s mismatched blue and gold gaze landed on the sandy male again, and as she stepped up to the collapsed form, she lowered her head to nose at his face. It was then that she noticed the scar on his forehead, between the brow points. It resembled those of Amia and Shilah, but theirs were only two vertical lines. His was more intricate. ?My name is Surreal, Beta Primary of Valhalla. You?re in safe paws.? Her voice was soft, accented in a British/Scots/Russian mixture that made her words sound unique, almost lyrical. ?I?m going to help you as far as you can go. Lean on me if you can?t hold yourself up.? She lowered her front end down, nosing under the male?s chin in an attempt to help him rise and lean upon her shoulder. Once she felt he was secure, she started forward slowly, as she had seen her mother do with weak patients. ?What?s your name?? Conversation was key, her mother had often said. It helped the patient to focus on something, helped them hold on to consciousness. So she would chat with him as they went. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Altavro Of The Nomads

The sudden voice that reached his ears made Altavro jump a little - he had been too wrapped up in the pain and the shivers that wracked his body to notice anything else. Not much of it reached his ears, and most of what she said sounded more like a distant buzzing than anything else, but the golden male stared intently (if a little blankly) in the direction of the other wolf. "Your eyes are weird..." He observed this serenely, voice surprisingly calm for one who couldn't pay attention to much of anything. Nothing really stood out to him except for her eyes - the blue and yellow was surprisingly entrancing. He couldn't bring himself to look away. Except he was pretty sure there was something he was supposed to be doing. Altavro only remembered for sure what it was when the wolf started moving him, helping him rise to his paws. Staggering a little, Altavro felt a wave of pain that made his vision blur for a second and left him seeing stars. He leaned closer to the other wolf, shivers making his body practically convulse as he tried to get warm. "My name is . . ." He trailed off blankly for a moment, searching through his hazy thoughts to find it - oh yeah! "Altavro." The hesitation was gone and he sounded more sure of that than anything else. It was as if remembering his name had made him a little more him. The wolf took a few careful steps, staggering a little as he put weight on his paws. The world was starting to get fuzzy again, and if Altavro concentrated he could scent his mother on the air again - was she coming to help him? His mother would surely be able to help him in an instant. He'd come here looking for help, right? There was someone here who could help him, Altavro remembered that much. He couldn't remember much about her except that she was beautiful - an angel, maybe? Was he dead already?

Surreal Adravendi

The sandy yellow, tan, and gold male looked up at her with delirious sky blue eyes, staring intently. Surreal felt sure he?d missed most of what she?d said. And he proved it when he spoke next. He said it so serenely, Surreal had to try hard to school her face into a serious expression. ?Thank you. My eyes are from my parents. Gold from my papa, Blue from mother, though my shade of blue is a little lighter. Hers are both blue, and it?s like staring into a lake. Deep and bottomless.? She kept up the chatter as they started forward, pausing as he answered her question to his name. Altavro. Her mother had mentioned the name. A Nomad. ?Well, Altavro, I?m Surreal. Beta of Valhalla.? She reintroduced herself calmly, easily supporting him as he staggered. Slowly, they made their way toward her mother?s den, and at last, they reached the entrance to the ravine. She turned carefully, uttering a low bark announcing their arrival. ?Almost there, Altavro.? Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Altavro Of The Nomads

Surreal's words mostly rolled over his ears, and Altavro spent most of his energy focusing on putting one paw in front of the other, and refraining from whimpering as each movement jolted swollen wounds. "Sounds . . ." Altavro trailed off, forgetting for a moment what he'd been trying to say. "Scary." Someone could get lost in eyes like that - or eyes like Surreal's. It was like looking at the summer sky with one eye and the sun with the other. If he lived in those eyes, his body probably wouldn't hurt as much as it did right now. Maybe he could do that. Could he do that? Was that possible? Maybe the gods would smile upon him and let him be free of this pain. He could just magically get better, right? Please, Sol... Altavro imagined the golden eye of Surreal as he spoke the name of the sun's god in his mind. Woo, this was actually kinda fun, if you ignored the fact that it hurt like none other. Maybe he could just float away and let everyone else deal with the whole infection thing. "S'nice to meet you." The words were slightly slurred, running together more than they ought as Altavro spoke carefully. The rest of the time passed in a blur, with Altavro alternating between being only aware of pain and being aware of nothing at all except his paws, which continued to place themselves steadily one in front of the other, even as Altavro drifted in and out of thought. He stopped only when Surreal came to a stop as well, still leaning heavily against the other wolf. "Mmkay," Altavro mumbled, hardly able to make his tongue work. Was it supposed to be this cold?

Erani Adravendi

She had already set up an Alcove for the injured, ill male Alsander had informed her of. As Surreal?s voice filtered into the cave, Erani left the small side chamber and padded out, framed for a moment in the mouth of the cave, sunlight dappling the stone at her paws. Black stone, shot with veins of white marble, and xanthous veins of gold, sending reflected sunlight to spark along her chest. She regarded her patient, recognizing him immediately. ?Altavro of the Nomads.? Her voice was calm, her natural soothing demeanor radiating from her like warm sunlight as she descended the three stone steps, the sunlight filtering through the greenery that crisscrossed the top of the ravine striking warm notes in the deep blue pools. With Surreal?s assistance, Erani shuffled Altavro into the cave, and once inside the chamber she?d set up for him, she settled him down and slipped from the ?cove, returning with her jaws full of the plants she needed. Yarrow, Agrimony, Comfrey, to name a few. Locating the wounds, she settled her paws on either side of the first one, exerting pressure, until the pus that oozed from them turned to blood, upon which time she went out to the spring pool and soaked a clump of highly absorbent moss. Carrying the dripping greenery in her jaws, she padded back, rinsing the wounds, before making the trip again. Five times she made this trip, until the wounds were thoroughly irrigated. Taking the yarrow, she began chewing, and applied the juice to the wounds with sure, gently licks to them. ?Fully trained, and yet you didn?t have the humility to ask for help when the wounds were fresh?? Velvet toned voice was conversational. She set a sprig of the Yarrow in front of his nose. ?Eat that.? Next, she chewed Agrimony, and applied it to the wounds, which had begun to bleed under the care given to them. The Agrimony would staunch the bleeding. When the bleeding slowed, she began preparing the Comfrey into a poultice, laying it over the wounds, pressing lightly with a paw. Her work finished, she stepped away, pausing to look at Surreal, who had slipped away, and returned with a hare. With a small nod, Erani took the rabbit and set it near the patient, before settling just outside the chamber opening. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Altavro Of The Nomads

Was that . . . an angel? Altavro took a quick breath, cocking his head as he gazed at the brilliant figure. "Didn't know an angel would recognize lil old me." These words were surprisingly clear, considering how much his words had been slurred just moments ago. But Altavro's moment of clarity was shortlived, fading almost as soon as it came, and the 'recognition' that had hit him was gone in an instant as the wolf sagged lower, stumbling into the cave. He sagged towards the ground, hitting the earth with a thud like a sack of potatoes. His head rang when he dropped, and Altavro lay there in blank silence until Erani's voice jolted him back to the world, bringing back with it the pain. "Seemed like a goo' idea at the time." Altravo mumbled in response to her question, examining the almost ghostly figure as she moved, twisting his head to keep her in his range of vision. Maw opening on command, Altavro made a soft whimper, but he swallowed the yarrow without complaint. It was only when the rabbit was placed near him that Altavro made any sort of noise, recoiling sharply from the scent. "Might throw up," He moaned, pulling a paw up to his face, shifting the poultices on his back and covering his muzzle desperately. A low moan escaped the wolf, but he forced himself to not retch. Still, he wanted this nasty thing away.

Erani Adravendi

Altavro seemed quite delirious from fever, though Erani ignored his remark about an angel in preference for getting him settled and comfortable. He was complacent with her, eating the Yarrow with no complaint other than a whimper. However, as he rejected the rabbit, she pulled it away to set outside the alcove, before she settled into her spot outside the alcove. The Yarrow would act as an anti-emetic once it kicked in, and he should be able to hold down a few bits of rabbit then. So she lowered her head to her paws, one watchful deep blue eye on the sand colored male, the other closing for a bit of a half nap. "So do you recall how you obtained those injuries?? Her voice echoed faintly in the chamber, continuing the impression of an angelic being, or descended Goddess. Surreal had returned to her patrol with Alsander, so the two were alone, save for Cormalin, asleep in his alcove near hers. Until Altavro was asleep, she would continue conversation. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Altavro Of The Nomads

The male's eyes had drifted half shut when Erani spoke again, and he blinked hastily to clear his thoughts. It wasn't particularly effective, and the half delirious wolf listened to the angel's words without complaint, twitching his ears absently as she spoke. It took him a long moment to respond, blank gaze focusing on Erani's forms. "When the earth got all move-y." Altavro mumbled, words slurring together, "Rocks..." Wait, what about rocks? "They jumped at me." Well, that probably wasn't the best way to explain it, but Erani would probably be able to figure it out. She sounded so pretty. Altavro just wanted to tell her everything he could think of to please the angelic figure. "Sharp, too." The words blended together, but Altavro soldiered on bravely, determined to explain how he had gotten those wounds. "Hurt." Okay, he couldn't really remember where he'd been going with that. The past few moments had suddenly gotten really fuzzy. He'd been saying something, but Altavro didn't really remember what. All he could really remember was the fluting, comforting voice of the angel as she'd spoken. She'd said something important, but for the life of him, Altavro couldn't remember. Oh well. She'd remind him if it was really important, and then he'd get to hear even more of her pretty voice.