WITH YOUR FEET IN THE AIR AND YOUR HEAD ON THE GROUND ooc. set after his fight with cougar to keep the kill, so he's VERY wounded, both pride and body-wise. However, he's an idiot and thinks he's being overdramatic, so plz yell at my boi Hauling the hefty body of the ram between his front legs, Birch returned to the pack lands. He'd steeled himself to the lecture he was about to get from his family. His chest was stained with red, and it was all dripping down the inside of his left front leg. He'd drop the ram's carcass with the rest of the pack's kills, and then he'd hunt down someone to clean him up. Seemed like a sensible plan, putting the pack first. He wasn't even hurt that bad, he was obviously just being a big baby. If he was really hurt, he'd be howling with pain, right? Right? A dizzy spell had him tipping to one side and stumbling a few steps to the left where his balance was the most off. Okay, maybe he was a little worse off than he thought. However, he wasn't that far from where they were keeping all of the food. No point in making a scene unless he was actively dying, right? He sucked in a deep breath, and trudged onwards. One step, and then another. Right paw, left paw, back right, left right. Rinse and repeat. He smelled the stockpile before he saw it, and followed that. One paw, then another. If he focused on that hard enough, he didn't even notice the pain. Or the dizziness. Was that normal? Maybe it was the rush wearing off. He dropped the ram with the rest of the food, and the stockpile was decidedly sad looking. Someone needed to go out and get some more. He'd go tomorrow, after he got his head treated. Maybe that cat had whacked him a bit harder than he thought, and knocked a few screws loose in his head. A heavy sigh rushed out of his lungs, and his rump dropped heavily to the ground. Well, that was one thing out of the way. "speech"

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The scent of blood caught her attention - and it wasn't emanating from the kill pile. She caught it first near the border, and followed it, and the droplets of blood onwards through the pack lands, her eyes dipped in concern as she sniffed the ground and walked. It had led her here, to the packs cache, and to Birch, who sat there, injured and unattended to. She took in a deep breath, her expression darkening as she regarded the friendly giant. “Well I never” she said, as she approached him, and stuck her nose into his personal space, sniffing first at the deep gouges in his chest, and then appraising the rest of him. “And here I thought you were actually one of those wolves with two brain cells to rub together.” she sat down hard on her rump, all 25 tiny inches of wolf as she regarded the giant with a hint of anger in her eyes. “What am I to you Birch, chopped liver? If your injured, you call me” she berated, emotion in her normally passive voice as she pushed her nose into her satchel and began to rummage around. She pulled out one of her pre-mixed pastes, dried Meadowsweet with a bit of ginseng root and a hint of lavender and wintergreen in carefully measured doses. One her better pastes for pain relief, through no need to tell him that. She placed it in front of him “Eat” she instructed, through it came out more like a scoulding. She waited a moment and watched, and once she was sure he had chewed the paste, she would start on the main task. Next she pulled out a more liquidy substance, flowers of Trillium sitting in salt water. She brought out a wab of moss and placed it next to the jar. “This is going to hurt” she warned him, which is why she had waited a moment for him to eat the paste. She could wait a little bit longer, but he deserved a little bit of a sting - it would leave a more lasting impression. She poured some of the solution into a chipped bowl, and dipped the moss in with her mouth and began to rub at his injured chest and shoulder, dip, wipe, dip, wipe, as she carefully cleaned out the wound. Once his chest lacerations where seen to, she pulled out a poultice of white willow bark and lambs ear, and bound it to him with horsetail. Using her teeth and paws in quick, deft movements as she saw to her work. Once that was done, she tipped out the used solution, gave it a rinse with a strong smelling substance, and poured in some fresh solution. She used this to clean his head wound, tsking at him between swipes. She applied the poultice to this one, and let it stick to his fur without a bandage, and quickly cleaned up her tools with a few more dips of the strong alcohol, before placing everything back into her bag, and pulling out one more item. The shiny bit of broken glass - a very lucky find, she held carefully in her mouth, around it she managed to say. “Look at me closely, and don’t blink” She then tilted it until the sun blinked of it into his eyes, and studied the reactions of his pupils to the light. ""

WITH YOUR FEET IN THE AIR AND YOUR HEAD ON THE GROUND “Well I never” the words stirred a little worry in his aching chest. Uh oh. Here came trouble, and her tone spelled disaster. She all but jammed her little nose right into the gaping claw marks that slashed across his chest. The coolness of her breath against the inflamed flesh felt nice, though. “And here I thought you were actually one of those wolves with two brain cells to rub together.” she chided, and it would have hurt if he had been lacking in the self esteem department. Instead, a doofy grin spread across his face. "Well, that sounds like a you problem." he sniped back, ignoring the way his jaw ached at the movement. He'd been tensing it around that ram's neck for a while, and with the relaxation of the muscles came the beginnings of a wicked headache from being smacked around by a cougar. “What am I to you Birch, chopped liver? If your injured, you call me” she snapped. The grin dropped, and a hint of indignity poked its way through. "Hey! I was gonna, I just had to drop this off first!" he whined, as though that were a proper reason in any way. He had been raised by healers, he knew better. Probably. She dropped a little jar in front of him, filled with one of the goops he'd watched her make a while back. This was a different kind of goop though. She seemed very adamant about him eating it, so he stooped down carefully, hissing at the pain that shot down his left foreleg, and started scooping wads of paste from the jar and into his mouth. It tasted.. not horrible? Not really great, either. Needed some fat added in, for flavour. He'd suggest that when she stopped yelling at him, and his head stopped thumping like a tiny wolf was having a rave inside of his skull. He sat back up to watch her start readying the next jar. There wasn't any goop this time, but some flowers in water. Oooh! Was she gonna make him drink tea? He liked tea. It was better than regular water, it tasted yummy. “This is going to hurt” she said simply, not bothering to look him in the eyes. The giant male groaned, more to himself than anything else. He was tired of stuff hurting! He was tired now, and he just wanted to lay down until everything stopped feeling like he'd been shitkicked by a herd of bison. Regardless, he sat as still as he could, and let her work. Sure enough, it definitely hurt. More of a stinging pain than anything, but it was enough to make him suck in a breath or two between his teeth. Once that was done, she bandaged up his chest with soft stuff. Oh, was it over now? Good. He was tired. Maybe Riva would cuddle with him, in exchange for making him feel bad about working hard to make sure everyone got fed. Nope. Instead, he had to duck down and thump heavily onto his elbows so she could clean the blood from his forehead and face. That hurt too, and he was starting to feel stretched a little thin by it. A bit of goop on his head, and she began to put her things away. Okay, now it was definitely nap time. Crap, was he going to make it to his den from here for a nap? A sudden, swift blinding by Riva with a piece of reflective glass stopped his train of thought in its tracks. “Look at me closely, and don’t blink” she commanded in what he called the "I'm A Big Bad Healer, Don't Fuck With Me" voice. He grumbled to himself, but did as he was told. He wasn't swearing, no sir. "speech"

Art by pimsri

He responded to her gentle chiding with a quib of his own, and she raised a brow at him as she went promptly and tidily about her work. “Interesting priorities” she commented, not letting herself rise to what she considered to be bait. She wasn’t here to argue with him, but to patch him up. She wasn’t afraid to give him a chidding for the way he treated his body, but she wasn’t about to fall into a debate about it. It was interesting to treat the giant. He might be one of the largest wolves she had ever attended to. She couldn’t access half of him without some aid of some sort, and was glad that he complied easily. He plopped down to allow her access to the higher portions of him, and she cleaned out his forehead with no fuss. She could, however, see the resignation in his gaze as he crouched down to her eye level. Hrm. he had the prettiest, almost golden flecks to the rich green of his gaze. Even in his reluctance, she could see the sweetness in them. She pulled herself away from the distraction, and flashed the light against his eyes. She watched the pupils sluggishly respond, and hurrumped softly to herself. Yup, she knew it, he had a concussion. She nosed about in her bag until she found her peppermint leaves, which were wrapped around ground turmeric root. “Eat this” she instructed, as she packed everything away. “Alright, your going to feel stiff for a few days, I recommend keeping off your feet as much as possible well that heals. As for your head injury, you have a concussion.. That means no sleep, so i’ll be dragging you off to my den for a lie down, so I can keep an eye on you.” she explained to the man, glancing up at his gigantic form as she waited to see if she would hit resistance. "Speech"

WITH YOUR FEET IN THE AIR AND YOUR HEAD ON THE GROUND He suffered through her ministrations with as little attitude as he could muster. Riva was helping, he had to keep reminding himself that. His chest hurt. Every breath in brought a new wave of pain, and he was starting to feel nauseous with it as the adrenaline wore off. Eventually she stopped trying to blind him, and offered up more herbs. These ones smelled familiar. Minty. “Eat this” she commanded lightly. He did as he was told. They tasted good. Nice and cool on his tongue. “Alright, your going to feel stiff for a few days, I recommend keeping off your feet as much as possible well that heals. As for your head injury, you have a concussion.. That means no sleep, so i’ll be dragging you off to my den for a lie down, so I can keep an eye on you.” This time, he didn't hold back on his loud groan. "Rivaaaaaaaaa," he whined as pitifully as possible, eyes falling shut as he tipped his head back to let the elongated syllable turn into a half howl of displeasure. He was tired! "How about I give you the general location of a half dead cougar, and you let me have a nap. I promise I won't tell." he offered halfheartedly, doing his best to lay his best puppy eyes on her. He slowly eased to his paws again, waiting for her response. It would be so nice if he could lay down, close his eyes, and wake up to find out this was all just a weird dream. "speech"

Art by pimsri