tell me where it hurts
ft sten
on her way back from the north and assisting that coyote, Huntington would stop in the field once more. her stock of herbs had depleted from tending to her patient, yet she still had a few precious ones left. perhaps she would see if any of the battle-worn wolves needed their wounds aided before heading back to her swamp. she did not want to leave it for long; many wolves seemed to have stepped inside without her knowledge, judging by the scents.
ahead of her, she saw the large hulking body of what most would assume to be a bear. the smell told her it was a canine, however beastly he appeared. nearing him now, she would set her bundle of herbs upon the earth and look him over. the man appeared to have been in many fights thus far; he had a few cuts that she could see. "do you require aid?" she went straight to the point, having no time to waste on fools just sitting about with no need.
"0/3 healing" |
He licked at a fresh wound in his leg, he had always been tattered with scars, but now there were fresh wounds on his body; slashes, scratches, bites, even the thin punctures of a snake bite, but he refused to stop fighting, not until he could prove to the Odindottier that he would be valuable. He lifted his lip as a soot colored woman approached him, anticipating another battle, but instead she offered to heal him. “If you must.” He snarled, his accent faintly musical as he spoke.
He pointedly looked away from the woman, not wishing to make eye contact with her while she worked on him. Were all the wolves here so courteous? He wondered. So far all he had seen of them was the lust for battle, which he found admirable, but here was a healer, offering to tend to him even though he had nothing he could offer her, with of course one exception.
speaking |
she must hone her skills. keep herself sharp. make her knowledge grow. she did not have to heal him in order to do it. there were plenty of grateful patients in this realm, though Huntington did not particularly care if they were grateful toward her. a patient was a patient. conscious or not. willing or not. the man did not seem to care, accepting her assistance though looking away from her as she moved forward to work.
the trillium she had left over from assisting the coyote was ground up immediately, though she did not apply it to him topically yet. first, she applied marigold. spreading the crushed plant over his lacerations, it would help with the cuts and burning feeling of an open, fresh wound. after that was done, she would prep the lamb's ear. Huntington desired an open source of water but her saliva would be just as good. though the lamb's ear could easily be crushed and applied; which she also did.
the girl did not speak as she worked, instead she focused entirely on the man's various wounds. he was like a canvas right now; one she was eagerly going to restore.
"1/3 healing sten" |
He grunted and growled as she worked, his lips lifted in a snarl as she tended to his open lacerations. Loss was still an open wound in him and although he had wanted to do better in the fights fate had seen that he be punished for his hubris by leaving him injured.
“What is your name?” He asked, the musical lilt of his accent betraying his seeting nature. If he was going to be here he at least wanted to know who was tending him, but more than that, he wanted to know why. He wouldn’t broach the question immediately, mostly because he was distracted by the pain as she worked.
speaking |
there was apparent wear and tear in the sense that the man had done little else but fight for perhaps hours or days upon end. she would part his long, shaggy fur best she could to apply the herbs. he asked her name, but she did not look up from her task. "Huntington" she had given the name 'Rose' so many times that it was becoming second nature to lie. perhaps she felt the man deserved a bit of a direct answer. well, maybe not deserve but she felt he had little time to waste on false pleasantries. or maybe for once, she saw no harm in gifting her true name.
the trillium was ready, and she applied it over the marigold. rubbing the plant into the open sores that looked to be potentially infectious soon. Huntington did not joke that he should keep his fur out of them; it looked wild and untamed so there was little point in jokes. he could not exactly clip his fur back. though she could suggest a good shave. this was all she could do with her meager supplies, but it was enough for now. she would mentally look him over before adding at least one more herb she had brought with her.
he was a large brute, his muscles potentially sore from all that 'training' but refusing to express anything but anger. "almost done" Huntington said softly, keeping her eyes peeled for anything else needing attention.
"2/3 healing sten |