Days, weeks passed by since the sunlight had risen again, burning away the remenants of the ooze ailment that had spread across the land. It was as if the sun itself was the cure for all the wolves’ woes, the very sickness that threatened to tear apart packs and relationships and one’s sanity. However, though Laeta had mended from her ailment like the others - ooze no longer trickled endlessly from her eyes, ears, nose and mouth - the elephant in the room was difficult to ignore. Her paralysis. The woman’s ruby eyes were clear and bright, but her chronic joint pain from being in bed all the time clouded them ever so slightly. Her facial muscles were always a bit tense from the constant throbbing of her hips in particular - the neck injury spared no mercy to her somehow intact sensation of pain - and she wasn’t quite as shy and meek as she was when she first joined. This shift in character would likely be there to stay, though, as Lae had felt herself metamorphisize throughout the mind-crushing spiral of the ooze. The illness had nearly destroyed everything that made her who she was, and now that she had survived, she found herself more confident, and with that, didn’t hold back any punches when it came to what words she carefully selected to speak. Still quiet, but ever a presence despite her inability to move. Mel had propped her neck with many a pillow, so that she could watch the seaside view from her window. Her thoughts wandered as they usually did, circling her brain like a bored fish in a bowl. And she was just that - absolutely bored. Besides visits from packmates, she could do little except endure the daily pain and suffering of her condition. Utter shit. Finding a streak of cynicism in her newfound morphing personality was unsurprising considering all she had endured. With a sigh, she stared out the window, lost in thought, as her badger companion swept dust from the floor with his little badger-sized broom. "Speech"

JOHNNY BROUGHT A ROCKET TO A KNIFE FIGHT, HE GOT SICK OF PEOPLE THINKING HE'S A GOOD GUY With the last dregs of fever draining away with the ooze that was still trickling down his throat in the worst form of post-nasal drip, the celestial brute decided to make a trip to the infirmary. After the plague had ripped through the pack unlike anything he'd ever witnessed, there was no way he would be unprepared for another one. He was already considering the variety of concoctions he could get to work on. Something to loosen phlegm and fluid buildup in the lungs, making it easier to dispel. About nine different kinds of fever treatments, to be sure...   Lost in thought, he shouldered the door to the pharmacy open with very little regard for who or what might be inside. It banged roughly against the wall, and he winced. Be gentle with the old wood, you oaf. That subconscious voice chastising him sounded an awful lot like his mothers... even after all these years, it was her voice that offered any kind of reason at the back of his mind. Grunting to himself in disdain, he lumbered through the storage room where most of the packs herb stores were kept safe from sunlight and temperature fluctuations. To start with, he'd gather up whatever stocks of marshmallow might be left. It was one of the best herbs he knew of for coughs that was relatively easy on the patient, and with everyone still recovering from the strange plague, there was more risk associated with using something more aggressive. Extracting the oils from it would be the best bet, though he might also make up some of those weird bundles his mother used to make him chew on when he was ill... The colossal male busied himself with collecting the marshmallow he wanted, as well as some boneset that he happened upon. His fever had been quite mild, but he wouldn't be taking chances with getting caught unawares next time. While he did reach for the cluster of dried lavender, he opted against it. Best not to get ahead of himself today, as this project was already set to take up most of his day. Clutching his dried herbs oh so delicately between his massive jaws, he set about climbing the winding staircase back up to his room on the third floor of the castle. By the time he had reached the third floor, his mind was already lost in planning. However, with one paw wedged between the door of his room and its frame, he found himself pausing. Why? As he returned to the present moment, fully conscious of his awkward lurking outside of his own bedroom, he took a moment to try and find the source of his distraction. Gentle susurrating from somewhere behind him, the sound of something sweeping continually over the floor. Frowning, he pushed the door of his room open and deposited his herbs on the top of a low bookcase near the door. Wandering back out into the hallway, ivory tipped auds swiveled in search of the source of the strange sound. Movement caught his eye through the cracked door of one of his packmates neighbouring rooms, along with the retreating figure of a small animal. Undeniably intrigued, he dared to creep closer to the doorway. He could smell that someone was in there. Had been in there for some time, in fact. Their scent permeated the air that swept through the gap in the frame. Alongside it, the familiar acrid tang of the plague. The cosmic brute shouldered the door open, perhaps a little too roughly, but kept his head low as he entered. He couldn't shake the concern that someone was still gripped by the sickness, and trapped in their room. Riddled with fungus or crystals, unable to cry out for help. When he found his paw grazing a soft, moving object, he paused. Looked down. That was... a new one. A badger. But the badger was sweeping the floor. With a broom. A very small broom. The goliath's maw opened, and shut. Brows pinched together in confusion for a moment, before his expression returned to its usual stoic blankness. Brilliant ruby eyes lifted and scanned the room, looking for some variety of context. Anything to explain why a badger was doing chores. There was a dark furred wolf, laid out by one of the windows, gazing balefully out onto the castle grounds. She looked pitifully frail, all skin and bones and weak muscles. He frowned down at her, heavy skull tipped to one side with unabashed interest. "What's the matter with you?" he grunted, not bothering to move aside so that the little mustelid could continue sweeping the space that he was now standing in. ""

Laeta’s drifting daydream took her many places beyond the castle walls - she traversed the fiery hot desert with bleeding trees, the sandy beaches, the thick woodlands..anywhere and everywhere she’d been so far that her mind could conjure up at will. Being bedridden had its advantages in that sense, she supposed; maybe she’d write a story someday about her mental travels across Auster. No, that sounded a bit sad, didn’t it? She sighed slowly, her eyelids beginning to flutter closed in the raptures of a midday slumber when a large figure heaved itself into her room. Another unexpected guest, surprisingly not the first time either. The last was the blonde wolf, Emile, who had been terrified of a packmate and mistakenly entered her room to hide. But, this was not him, but a stranger. The large, galaxy-pelted wolf had accidently swept his paw over Mel, and the badger squeaked in surprise as he leaped back, dropping the broom and adjusting his monocle as he took a good look at who spooked him. "Oh, my apologies, good sir! I was a bit startled," The badger replied, offering a polite and brief bow in greeting. He quickly grabbed his broom afterwards and continued sweeping, seemingly over the quick scare. Laeta’s near identical ruby gaze flickered towards the male who’d wandered in, and she tilted her head the best she could towards her direction, though the movement was difficult. He was massive - dwarfing her in compariaon. His coat was completely different from the rest of the pack, a nebula of various hues that harmoniously decorated his fur. She couldn’t help but be intrigued. Still, she couldn’t get an inquiry out when the gruff male had asked, "What’s the matter with you?" "I’m paralyzed due to a neck injury,"She said, voice calm. The time for weeping and grieving over her condition was long behind her, it was clear she’d accepted her fate and had pushed the idea of being a burden on the pack deep down as well. Not even in a repressed type of way, but in the way that she’d find a way to cope regardless. She had to if she was to survive. Even if the pain in her joints was great, and the fire burning in her travel-worn and stress-worn skeleton managed to cloud her every clear gaze in a barely masked expression of pain. That was the only factor she’d never truly get over. The pain. "Speech"

The badger apologized to him for nearly being punted by one of the brute's oversized mitts, but he paid the small creature no heed. His attention was solely on the fae resting in her bed, who had now craned her neck awkwardly to look at him with a glazed over stare that spoke volumes of her condition. She said quite plainly that she'd been paralyzed by a neck injury, and the man cocked his head yet further to one side in curiosity. With a quirk of his violet brow, he took a few more slow steps into the room. Now that he was aware of the badger toiling away underfoot, he would be marginally more careful not to trample the little beast. "And how did you manage that?" he rumbled the question mostly out of his own professional interest, and suddenly he found himself looming over her bedside. The dark pelted fae was truly tiny, even if there had been meat on her bones. "I've seen my share of injuries, but not many live to tell the tale when the neck is damaged.." though he was muttering more to himself than anything, he shamelessly let his gaze wander over her delicate bodice. The sharp jut of her hips seemed to dip into her thigh muscles, which told him she'd been laid up long enough to begin to display muscular atrophy. How long had she been trapped in this room, unable to do more that stare balefully out the window? He loathed the thought of being forced to live out his days without being able to feel the ocean breeze on his face, or smell the bloom of fresh flowers in the fields. Carnelian eyes swept up over the curve of her ribs, visible through the well kept fur- but not to an extent that alarmed him. Lifting a gargantuan paw, he sought to press it gently into the small divot between the dame's shoulder blades, where the backs of his toes might be able to locate a telltale gap in the vertebrae or a misalignment. Too wrapped up in the mystery, he hardly thought to ask permission. After all, he'd been brought on as a healer or sorts, why not make use of his craft with this injured fae? It wasn't like she could get more paralyzed. ""

"How did you manage that? I’ve seen my share of injuries, but not many live to tell the tale when the neck is damaged.." The nebula-pelted male asked. Lae paused, brow knitted softly as if she knew the storie but couldn’t, for the life of her, recall all the details. Truth was, the ooze had ailed her severely, physically as well as mentally. It had felt like the fireflies had eaten at her brain, making her erratic, delusional, and it was a miracle she hadn’t died from wandering off to gods-know-where on the island. "An interaction with a cloaked entity, one made of fireflies, went foul," She said, and it was clear the experience, or what she remembered of it, pained her to speak of. "I don’t recall what I did to provoke it, being infected with the ooze. However, when I came to, I couldn’t move." She sighed softly, the words spoken a grim reminder she had to live with. She’d promised herself not to dwell, to keep carrying on existing because it was all she could do. But at times, what fragments she recalled of the entity and how she had awoken paralyzed from a strange dream came back in waves, like a stormy sea. In acknowledgement of his other sentence, she offered a very subtle nod, a slight upward tilt of the chin. "I guess I’m one of the lucky ones, then." Her words weren’t literal - no wolf would be fortunate to have this injury and survive. She knew it would be preferable to perish than to know one couldn’t move for the rest of their life. She had, what, six years or so left in her? The mortal realization of her injury had crushed her over and over during the ooze breakout, when she thought she would. It was strange how she, in her weakened condition, could pull through while others that appeared healthy could pass away. She knew such cases existed. Why her? Realizing her thoughts were laced with a toxic blend of cynicism, she shut it off with a soft blink of her ruby eyes. She was better than that. She knew better than to mope. She instinctively inhaled sharply when the nebula-streaked male pressed his large paws into her neck, not expecting him to touch her. What was he doing? Even Mel paused his sweeping to nervously peek over and was about to ask a barrage of concerned questions when Laeta asked tensely, "Erm, may I ask what you’re doing? Are you a physician also?" She’d already been seen by Syanna who’d given her the diagnosis, and Gwyn had prescribed her herbs for the pain in her joints. The male’s toes pressed into her lower vertebrae, the injury being situated higher towards the skull. Still, his pressure shot down to her aching joints in her shoulders and elbows, making her wince. "Speech"

JOHNNY BROUGHT A ROCKET TO A KNIFE FIGHT, HE GOT SICK OF PEOPLE THINKING HE'S A GOOD GUY A twinge of sympathy plucked a mournful tune upon his heartstrings as the small fae recounted her perilous encounter with the cloaked figure that had cropped up all over the continent. While he'd heard about the strange entity and its wares, he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting it. Which was a bit of a shame, as meeting with the local spirits might have been the push he needed to pick up his mother's faith. It was an old belief system, spanning aeons and myriad generations- all mysticism and blood sacrifice. No matter, he was content to be a heathen in his own way. Her voice was tight with emotion, though her features remained noticeably lax throughout her halting, unsettling tale. He hummed thoughtfully between her pauses, acknowledging her story without offering much input of his own. She spoke of her luck, and he frowned slightly. "The spirits certainly worked upon you, though I can't make a guess of their intentions.." he muttered absently, his attention more focused on the sensations he was gathering with his careful ministrations over the delicate flesh upon the base of her neck. He hardly noticed the soft gasp she sucked in at his touch, instead pressing one knuckle, then another, lightly into the gap between her shoulders. He would have expected any "lucky" breaks to have occurred there, where the shoulder blades would have protected the spine from being completely severed. Instead, the vertebrae felt normal. Evenly spaced, if a little arthritic. When the fae spoke again, she did so with a wavering tone that openly announced her anxiety. "Hm?" he grunted, lifting his massive paw only to attempt now to gingerly lay it against the back of her neck again- a different spot, closer to the middle. "Oh, yes. Most of my training in my youth was focused on herbology and setting bones. Typical combat and field medicine, quite necessary when running with a marauders band." he rumbled, the light frown now a permanent crease between his brows. "I'm wondering if the break might be healed in some way, but first I must find it. What treatments have the others established?" he questioned quietly, lifting his gaze to her tense features for a moment. For the most part, he had learned to entirely skip over the fact that he looked like some kind of terrible cosmic boar-wolf, and the way that might affect his patients. He was working, which meant he wasn't going to concern himself with hurt feelings and sore pride. ""

It appeared Deion had taken some pity on her recollection, as poor as it was. She’d take the response regardless - it was preferable to a response fueled with shame and anger. She’d gotten mad at herself over this more times than she could count. Anger for getting herself infected with the ooze. Anger for provoking such a powerful entity. Anger for letting herself get wounded so badly. But anger trapped one in cycles, hard to break and even harder to recognize. She caught herself before winding down in such circles, because what else was she supposed to do? Whine and moan about how she was trapped in bed, bones in constant aching pain that flooded her body each time she was shifted around? There was no use in expending such energy for something as unproductive as rumination. As Deion continued his examination, mentioning he couldn’t make out the spirit’s intentions, Laeta simply murmured, "Me neither." Her comment about him being a physician conjured a response as he gingerly placed his paw closer to the top of the neck. He was attempting to find the fracture, which Syanna had located even closer to the skull. It was strange that she’d be able to sense pain and even tilt her head ever so slightly despite it, but such an injury was likely beyond anyone’s understanding, even a healer such as he. In fact, the amount of wolves here that knew healing was a surprise, and also a relief. There was more support, and she didn’t want to feel like she was burdening one physician alone. It was interesting that he was a combat healer - she’d never heard such a thing, really. Even the mention of battles and wars were foreign to her, as back in her loner life she’d only experience mere spars and squabbles, fights to the death among one or a few wolves, but not entire packs. He was clearly confident in his skills from such experiences. When he wondered if the break was healed aloud, leaving her to crease her brow in concern and also frustration. If the neck fracture was healing, why couldn’t she move? If a broken bone was mended, didn’t it make sense for it to gain function again? Maybe it was lingering magic from the entity..she didn’t know. It was frustrating, vexing, all of it. Swallowing back the cynicism building in her thoughts, she heard him mention what treatments the others established. She frowned. "Hmm..Mel would know the exact herbs. I was really out of it and couldn’t identify them all that well." At the mention of his name, the badger hopped onto the bed, glancing up at the large male as he mentioned, "W-Well, the physician, Syanna, prescribed boneset, juniper, and elderberries for pain and the fever Lady Laeta experienced with the oozing ailment. The other physician, lady Gwynevere, prescribed liquid for a painkiller..though I am unsure of its contents. Alas, the injury has no treatment itself." Most of the medications were for pain management, the nebula-pelted male would discover, and not for the injury. "Speech"

JOHNNY BROUGHT A ROCKET TO A KNIFE FIGHT, HE GOT SICK OF PEOPLE THINKING HE'S A GOOD GUY There didn't appear to be any divergence from the norm in the middle vertebrae either, so he retracted his digits and replaced them more carefully at the nape of her neck, where the spinal chord retreated into the skull and the bones grew much smaller. Significantly harder to detect damage there, as well. He was not a small man, he couldn't rely on his paws to do all of the work on such a dainty fae. When she spoke up, she mentioned that she had not been prescient enough to know the details, and that Mel knew. His brow furrowed for a moment, until the little badger hopped neatly up onto the bed. Ah, the badger was Mel. That made a small degree of sense, he supposed. He paused his assessment, and met with beady gaze of the little mustelid as it recounted a variety of herbs. One physician had treated her during the height of her infection with boneset, juniper, and elderberries. The brute hummed thoughtfully, but said nothing as the badger continued to speak. He was familiar with this Gwynevere dame, she was the best their pack had to offer for medics. Though they hadn't met, he respected her position enough to let her take care of the primary treatments. Some variety of liquid painkiller was all the explanation he needed, at that point. He nodded his head lightly, and returned his attention to the back of the fae's neck with a great deal more intensity than many would have been comfortable receiving in any context. "You're in pain, then?" he said, though he knew the answer already based on the sheer volume of treatments being applied to mitigate joint aches and muscle pain. Confusion etched itself onto his brow, and he shook his head again. "You surely angered the spirits, girl." the brute muttered, and when he pressed his knuckles a little more firmly against the thick fur at the base of her skull, he swore he could feel something shift. That wasn't supposed to happen. All the while, he found himself worrying at the back of his mind for the fae. If she was in pain, either she would soon recover, or within a few weeks she would beg them to toss her from the window and let it be over with. He did not enjoy that thought. At least he knew where the fracture was, though he had little interest in probing further and disrupting any healing that might be happening there. Alabaster digits were pulled from the well kept fur of her scruff, and he lowered the pad of his paw onto the point of her shoulder. "Were you suffering from joint pain before this?" he questioned, and his paw sought to lightly press at the joint of her scapula and humerus, whereupon he was rewarded with a soft pop of the synovial fluid that tended to come from achy, arthritic joints. "I know of another way to ease that pain, but it does involve physical contact- I understand you may want to avoid that." he said as he replaced his paw upon the floor and took a half step away from the bed. It had been so long since he'd treated a patient, and part of him was enjoying the return to form. He glanced at the little badger- Mel- watching for any objections from the animal companion. ""

As the nebula-pelted brute continued to examine her, Laeta let Mel explain the medications she had been given thus far - which her companion had dutifully provided her, as prescribed, on the dot. He certainly had a strong memory. Stronger than hers, anyway. Her thoughts, even now, were sometimes jumbled and interrupted, like cracks on a surface that was otherwise smooth. Jagged edges of thoughts, words, feelings all roughened her subconscious, likely forever marred by whatever remenants of the ooze decided to linger where the sunlight couldn’t reach. In this case it was the confines of her inner brain. She’d get back to a full clear head soon enough, though. For her paralysis, though, that was an entirely different story. It was the one exception to the idea that tike heals all wounds, because this one certainly didn’t. As the healer continued his examination, feeling closer to the actual fracture site that Syanna had caught in her own investigation, Laeta’s eyes clouded with pain she wasn’t expressing. He asked if she was in pain, to which she did her best to nod in response, because yes, she was constantly sore and aching, and he mentioned that she must have angered the spirits. She offered a soft, clearly bitter chuckle. "I’m willing to bet that many wolves have angered the spirits — but if you’re really foolish, they break your neck, too." It was her attempt at a joke, something to cope with her situation. It was a tad dry, but no harm was meant from it. It was directed at herself, anyways. She couldn’t even recall half the things she’d did or the places she’d wandered off to during her infection with the ooze, but it certainly wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she’d done something stupid or reckless -  totally out of character for a woman who thought two paces ahead of her physical actions. Whatever it was, though, she paid the price for it in the cruelest way imaginable. When he finished his probing around the neck, he pressed down on her shoulder blade region, and she felt a strange sensation that caused her to cringe slightly. Not that it compared to the fiery rampage of her joints. When asked if she had suffered joint pain before her injury she replied, "Yes. I was a loner before joining the Hallows, and all that traveling, curling up into dens to hide from others, as well as the stress of trying to survive aged my bones greatly. I guess after not moving for so long, the pain’s caught up to me. It did seem a bit better when I moved around, though. Of course, currently that’s impossible." She explained it the best she could to a medical expert, which she was not. Mel listened with a glimmer of pity in his beady eyes, realizing how worn her body was compared to her actual age. A four year old woman in the body of an arthritic eight year old. Only further compounded by lack of movement, further stiffening the angry joints. When the male mentioned a way to relieve it, though it was from physical contact and thought she might like to avoid it, she didn’t mind. Mel glanced to her, as if awaiting her answer. Thought the little badger help to be her spokesperson when she was immobile, Lae still had the capability to speak for her own treatment. "Let’s try it." She said, firm. She was willing to try anything at this point - the herbs could only do so much and work for so long, she was curious to see how physical contact could relieve it. "Speech"

He listened patiently while she explained that the life of a rogue had not been kind to her, and her joints had suffered greatly while she struggled to survive all those years. Perhaps he'd been lucky, in the end, to wind up with Val and her crew. They protected one another, and rarely had to worry about petty things like rival bands or struggling for food. Slaughter and maim those who oppose you, and steal what you want from those who are too pitiful to protect it. It worked just fine, he was a big strong man now. Ornery as an old goat and twice as stubborn, but that was genetics. Finally, the fae agreed to test out this new treatment, and he grunted softly as he rose to his paws again. "I'll need a minute to get the lavender oil, it works well to bring down joint inflammation. I'll have to massage it into the skin, but you'll smell nice afterwards at least." the cosmic titan rumbled, and without much in the way of parting words he turned and lumbered out the door. He was fairly certain that there was a small vial of the oil somewhere in his room. Otherwise it would be another trip down to the infirmary to try and dig it out. Ruby gaze scanned over the myriad shelves along the walls of his room, searching for the tiny glass vial. He knew which one it was, because someone had very helpfully applied a little drawing of a lavender stalk to the outside. Ah, there it was. Now he needed a bowl. Easier to dip paws in a bowl than pour oil onto paws. A wooden one would work, less likely to shatter if it fell over at some point. With the vial in the bowl, and the bowl carefully cradled in his massive jaws, he returned to his patient. The floorboards creaked dangerously beneath his bulk as he plodded across the hall, having no regard for disturbing anyone else's peace and quiet. Setting his prize down on the edge of the bed, he glanced over at the little badger with his strange eyewear and comparatively smaller paws. "Could you pour enough of the oil into the bowl to lightly cover the bottom, thank you." he said this without really waiting for a response, and the thanks was barely an afterthought. Bedside manner was not his strong suit, and the brute's overall demeanour was that of a lifelong warrior and raider. That was difficult to shake, and he couldn't be bothered to try all that hard. When he placed both titanic forepaws on the edge of the bed, he felt the whole thing creak ominously. It would probably hold. Being as careful as he could, he hauled his massive frame onto the bed. It was smaller than the one in his room. Probably of little concern for the tiny fae, though he knew if he tried to lay down, his ass would almost certainly be dangling over the edge for anyone to take a chunk out of. All of the sudden, he was standing over the dark furred dame as she reclined against her pillows. Been a while since I've been in this position. the thought came to him entirely out of the blue, but once it was there he suddenly recognized how this might seem... Damage control time. "I need to adjust your position, so that you're laying on your belly. It will be easier that way, but I understand if that isn't something you'd like me to do." he grunted. He would probably need his tiniest toe on one foot to lift her entire body up. When all was said and done it would be mere moments of discomfort, but he wasn't eager to have the entire pack on his ass for manhandling a woman who couldn't fight back. This wasn't that type of group, he'd learned very quickly. ""

It didn’t take long after Lae’s explanation that the male said he’d be right back with some lavender oil for the inflammation. It’d help with her pain, as well as help her smell nice. Lae’s eyes glimmered in curiosity, but she offered him the benefit of the doubt - not that she doubted his expertise thus far. For a grouch, he had a decent bedside manner and she trusted him. Mel watched along with the woman as the titan lumbered out the room, gathering something in what was presumably his bedroom not too far away. After a few minutes, the male padded back to her room, carrying in his jaws a bowl and a small vial of what was presumably the lavender oil. She only noticed then how massive he was, his sheer build and stature really did make her look like little more than a pup compared to him. Her helplessness with her paralysis did make her feel no more than that. The male then asked Mel to help pour the vial’s contents into the bowl, just enough to fill the bottom. "Certainly, sir," He uttered, taking the vial into his semi-dextrous paws and opening the vial, pouring the soothingly-scented contents into the bowl until it was to the healer’s satisfaction. The badger offered the bowl back to the male so that it could be placed anywhere at his discretion. He had a way of doing things without waiting for much of a reply from the other, but Laeta didn’t mind his style. He was direct, and to the point, and she was fine with that. She found that sometimes the most giftedindividuals often had the least appealing personalities, and this healer was no exception. All of a sudden, the nebula-pelted giant awkwardly lumbered his way onto her bed with a grunt - thank the gods it was just big enough - and his sheer power forced Mel to hop of the bed and simply watch from above, his nervousness showing as he watched with beady eyes. Laeta’s ruby eyes widened in surprise - not really because the healer had clambered onto her bed entirely, but that the frame itself didn’t give away with mostly his bulk. Impressive. She looked up at him the best she could, though her head couldn’t crane very far in an upwards direction due to her injury. She felt she should’ve been more worried, given that he was a strong, powerful individual and she was utterly powerless. Mel peered up nervously, but said nothing. He ruby eyes glanced up, wondering how he’d use the oil to begin with. If her old personality from before the ooze had stayed, normally she would’ve panicked. However, her eyes held nothing but a neutral calm. When he said he’d need to position her on her belly for this treatment and mentioned it’d be easier for him to work with, she said, "If it’s easiest for you, then sure." She allowed him position her so that he’d be able to do the treatment. If he was a healer like he said, he’d handle her with respect and help her aching joints. Mel was there just to make sure everything was okay. After all, he wasn’t simply a meek caretaker, and those ruby claws weren’t just decoration. He was her bodyguard of sorts as well. Still, Laeta would allow this treatment. Anything for her fiery joints, it was excruciating to even be flipped over to avoid pressure sores. "Speech"

The little badger handed him back the bowl, and sure enough it was filled just enough that the oil rolled easily over the bottom of the bowl when it moved. Taking the wooden bowl between his incisors again, he set it down near the fae's head. Less likely to be tipped over while he worked, as he didn't need to do anything to her head or neck. She quietly agreed to letting him reposition her on the bed, and so without further ado the cosmic giant scooped one massive forelimb under her hips and lifted them up towards his chest. Again. Long time since he'd had such a luxury, and here he was doing this purely on a professional basis. Shame. As her hindquarters lifted off of the bed, the soft creaking and cracking of her joints felt as though it were travelling straight up his forelimb and into his chest. If he hadn't known any better, he would have said she were a decrepit, elderly woman. Once her curled up hind limbs had straightened out under her hips, he gently set her rump back down on the bed. Now for the hard part. A few tiny steps forward framed his forelimbs on either side of her head, and he stooped so he could cradle her head and neck along the top of his forearm once he'd slid it along her ribs and under her armpit. From there, it was just a matter of keeping his leg level while he lifted it, so as not to cause unnecessary damage to the healing fracture while he repositioned her forelimbs. If he could have, he would have been sweating bullets at the thought of breaking her neck properly this time around. Finally it was done, and her chin rested on the pillows again. He let out a harsh breath through his nose, and settled himself on his haunches just behind her rump. "You let me know if what I'm doing hurts too much, and I'll stop." the celestial brute grunted, reaching forward to dip one forepaw, and then the other, into the floral mixture by her head. Then he set to work, shoulders first. Slow, careful pressure in small circles. He kneaded his toes into the space between her angular shoulder blades, ivory tipped auds perked to the sounds of synovial fluid releasing its trapped gasses in a series of quiet cracks and pops. It was difficult to balance the force necessary to work the joints with the lightness needed to avoid entirely breaking the delicate bones of the tiny woman. The brute took breaks often, waiting for a complaint or a cry of pain. It would take a few minutes for the lavender oil to work its way into her skin, trickling down the strands of her fur to sink into her pores with a slight tingling sensation. "You be sure to let me know if this helps, and I can return in a day or two to repeat this." the titan rumbled as he worked his way along her spine, closer to her hips. The ridges of her spine were certainly more pronounced than he would like, and the northerner in him felt the compulsion to mention that she ought to eat more. A little bit of fat would offer more cushion while she was stuck in bed, her joints wouldn't hurt so much. Then again, his mother's ghost would reign down the worst of beatings for commenting on a strange woman's weight. Instead he simply kneaded the thick pads of his forepaws, freshly dunked in oil, into the narrow space where her spine connected with her pelvis. Ah, there was a good, hearty crack. It would probably hurt for a few moments, and then settle into a more comfortable position as he moved away from that spot. "I don't think you would be needing this daily, but I imagine a few times a week may be beneficial. Numbing the pain only goes so far." he commented absently while he slid his paw down to the sharp point of her knee and pressed down. It gave a little, but there was a resistance in the joint that told him he needed to tilt it inward and then.. pop! The joint warmed beneath his digits as he soothed it for a few moments with a kneading motion. ""

Truthfully, the only time she had been handled was by the other physicians or by Mel, whom had only flipped her (mind you, not literally flipping her haphazardly, but rather in painstaking increments until she was somewhat in a better position) to avoid pressure sores. The risk had been highlighted by the other healers that if she stayed in one position for a long enough time, her pelt could rot away to reveal bone. It was motivated by this fear that the badger had taken the time to handle her frame, but she had never been lifted up like this before. Ever. The woman could help but be a bit surprised, her ruby eyes wide with moreso a sense of curiosity and surreal amazement than fear, as this gargantuan wolf manage to scoop her up and position her as if she was nothing more than a limp ragdoll. Though he was massive, she could feel his restraint due to his awareness of their size difference, careful not to break any bones or aggravate her neck injury in the process. She felt the popping and cracking in several joints on her weakened, atrophied frame, and she already felt the beginnings of some well overdue relief. The lavender oil had been positioned close to her head, alloqing its soothing scent to fill her nostrils. Well, this was..quite nice. She had never smelled foul in her life, but she couldn’t say she was fresh as a daisy, either. Laying in a bed all day did that to you. The male asked to let him know if anything hurt, and the woman offered a slight but clear upward tilt of her chin in acknowledgement. The best nod she could muster. As he dipped his paws in the oil and began kneading, it felt as if the stress, fear, and worry of the past season, along with the pressure-filled soreness within her bones released with each pop and crackle from beneath the nebula-pelted wolf’s knuckles, and as he mentioned he could repeat this in a day or two, there wasn’t any protest from the woman - only a deep sigh in relief as the excruciating throbbing subsided significantly with each crack. "That would be nice, actually. This is the first time I’ve felt complete relief from the pain." Not that it would subside completely, but it certainly did help. Going down the spine and into her hips, she could feel the pressure lifting substantially, and it was clear what a difference his therapy made. Even the sharp pop of her hip joint was quickly filled with the sensation of relief. The oil slicked her fur, but unlike the ooze, this stuff had a pleasant and soothing association. Mel watched from the sidelines, murmuring to himself in his usual bouts of worry, but seemed nonetheless relieved that Lae was feeling better with this strange treatment. She couldn’t see his gaze, but she knew just by the way the pressure of his toes went over the heavily pronounced ridges of her spine that he was concerned about her weight. True, she had lost a massive amount, mostly due to the ooze. During her affliction with the illness, she had no appetite to speak of and had nearly wasted away to death. Now, feeling better after the sun had risen, her eating schedule was on the mend, too. Mel made sure of it - but it would take time. It seemed she lost weight much easier than she could gain it. He went down to the knee joint and maneuvered it in just the right spots, kneading it as it popped and soon settled. His comment regarding that she’d need the treatment only a few times a week was reassuring. "It certainly helps," She murmured, clearly able to relax to a deeper level for the first time in..well, forever, it seemed. Even though the muscles that remained in tone beneath her neck were not in her control, they also seemed less tense due to the arthritic joint pain, and her entire skeleton seemed to be more flexible, as if a year or two was taken off. Better still, during the treatment, the woman felt her eyes slide closed a few times, as if the healer’s expert-like popping and kneading chased away the demons that seemed to hang about her head. It was clearly not only beneficial for her body, but for the relaxation of her mind as well. "I can’t thank you enough for doing this," she murmured, even offering a smile as her chin was still cupped on a pillow. Mel adjusted the monocle on his face, and though he still seemed a bit intimidated by the brute’s size, he squeaked, "Y-Yes, thank you ever so much, sir, for your services..I’ve never seen quite a treatment before." The entirety of the Hallows might not have even heard of this treatment, except maybe the other physicians. "Speech"

While he worked, there wasn't a single complaint uttered. Instead, soft sighs and grunts of contentment punctuated the gentle popping of joints as he worked his way along her spine and down to her hips. The dainty fae graciously accepted his offer of continued treatment, mentioning that she had yet to feel complete relief from the pain in her bones. He grunted in acknowledgement, but needed a moment to process that last bit. Despite all of the painkillers, she was still trapped in a body that ached constantly. That wouldn't do at all. Somewhere over his shoulder he could hear the badger mumbling and fretting, but he paid it no mind. If the little mustelid had a problem, he could speak up properly. By the time his digits had grasped at the first of her hind paws, kneading her delicate toes until he felt the individual joints of her tarsals give a near imperceptible crack. They became much more mobile after that, and he set the first hind paw down. A few careful extensions of her ankle joint rewarded him with a series of popping sounds, and he set the whole leg back down on the bed. Leaning back onto his haunches was not the most comfortable position for him, but it wouldn't be especially long lived. He did the same with her other hind leg, and dropped none too gracefully back onto all four paws. His shoulders framed her hips and when he loomed over her, the fae seemed childlike in her diminutive and frail state. "I'm going to put you back on your side now, and then I can get to your front legs." the cosmic titan rumbled quietly, rising shakily to his paws. The bed was just soft enough to have very limited stability. This time around, he pressed one massive forepaw against her right hip and sought to slide it under her belly, twisting her hindquarters as he did so that her legs could be splayed loosely out to one side. A few half steps forward, his heavy paws landing on either side of her petite frame, allowed him to gently coax her shoulders to do just the same. It was harder with the injured neck to be concerned about, but he did manage. With a few hearty slaps of her pillows to adjust them around her head, he tipped her skull so her cheek was back on the pillows. She thanked him for his aid, and he waved an ivory dipped paw in lazy dismissal. "Thank me when you are better." he grunted. Looming a little too close to her face, he frowned at the notable dip beneath her cheekbones. This was unacceptable, she needed to eat more. "How is your diet? You're too skinny." he questioned, and then looked away so that he could lumber back down onto the ground. There was room there for someone to fill him in on that, though he would need time to concoct a proper response later if her diet was unsatisfactory for the massive northerner. The brute sought to balance his elbows on the edge of the bed and rest with his rump on the floor while he worked on her front limbs. There was the nervous little badger again, speaking up to thank him and remark on the oddness of the treatment. Stretching one of the dame's slender forelimbs, he was rewarded with a crackling in her elbow and a pop in her wrist. Perfect. "My parents were very large wolves, and I had to do this as their bones began to weaken. It does not cure anything, but it can take some of the pain away without needing medicine." he rumbled absently, having finished with the girl's paw and moved onto her other foreleg. Another slow extension, pulling lightly until he heard the pop, pop, pop of the major joints releasing those trapped gasses. With his heavy front paws thumping back down onto the wood floor, he decided he was satisfied with everything now. "If you do need me to return, I would suggest waiting until night. Lavender makes you sleep, and the massaging relaxes the body. It will help keep your sleep schedule more regular." he said to the dark fae, his expression as blank and unreadable as it had been for most of their interaction. And finally it dawned on him. He had heard her name when the badger had been rattling off her treatments- Laeta. And he had never bothered to give his own. Why did he always do this? "Ah.. my name is Deion." he said then. "My room is just across the hall, should you need me." he wouldn't leave quite yet, he wanted to make some adjustments to her diet if she wasn't getting the right nutrients. Then he would probably take his leave, rather than overstay his welcome and micromanage her entire daily life.. ""

Laeta felt a wave of calm wash over her as he worked through her hind legs, feeling the cracks and pops as whatever was built up within them was released. He was probsbly satisfied that his treatment was effective thus far, but Laeta was the one feeling the benefits. Each of her toes cracked, he maneuvered her to get to her front legs, noting all the while his concerned gaze about her frame. With the hind legs all finished, he gently manipulated her limbs and torso so as to have her laying on her side, to which she had no complaint. At this point, she’d grown accustomed to being physically handled, and over his visit, she began to trust him more. It didn’t take her long to trust those within her pack, something that improved upon joining them not so long ago. She would’ve never let this happen if she was still who she was when she was still new to the Hallows. She still was, compared to her packmates, but her character and personality received a shift in the positive direction. It was a massive improvement for her to allow herself to be touched and handled this way. It showed she trusted her packmates more and more. As her cheek was back on the (generously fluffed) pillow, Deion waved his paw dismissively at her thanks. She smiled softly - he was blunt, but not arrogant. Rather, he was a humble individual, at least at first glance. Though, he wasn’t a pushover in the least, that was clear. No, he was somewhere in the middle, and she respected that. When he peered close to her face, observing their sunken appearance, he frowned in what seemed to be disapproval. His remark on how her diet was, and that she was too skinny, was replied with a soft but defeated sigh from the woman. The ooze had affected her horribly, among one of its cruel symptoms was her absence of appetite. "The oozing illness took my appetite, and I could barely eat. It’s getting better, but not by much." Mel lifted himself up on his hind legs to peer up at the nebula-pelted wolf, explaining, "I-I do offer her meals, regularly..either by hunting myself or what has been brought to the kitchen below. While her appetite is somewhat improved since the sun has returned, I don’t know how to help her keep weight on, I-I suppose. Sometimes the lady tells me she gets nauseous." It was true. The poor creature had been providing her nourishment, but her eating habits were less than stellar. She sometimes grew nauseous even after a few bites, no doubt some cruel remainder from her near-death at the hands of the ooze. "Mel does his best, I just don’t feel well when I try to eat. It’s better than during the ooze, where I’d be vomiting near constantly - but it’s hard to get more than a few bites down." As he massaged her front limbs, each one popping as much as her hind ones, he mentioned he’d often apply this treatment to his parents, who were large as he was. Large wolf from large parents, it made perfect sense. She could only imagine how his birth pack looked, or his family. To her they’d probably look like a forest of giants. Then again, most wolves taller then her managed to dwarf her at the same time, both in height and bulk. She was no bigger than a decent-sized coyote herself. The treatment, as the wolf mentioned, was no cure - but she didn’t mind. The pain medicine only worked for so long until her body was able to overcome the dosage, and ache even more fiercely. This method, at least, seemed to slow it for a while longer. When at last he finished, her body smelling of sweetly soothing lavender, the woman felt a weight lifted from her bony shoulders. Her joints felt less stiff, even if she couldn’t move them, but the relief was there. Even her face seemed much more relaxed, and the leavender scent permeated the room with a calming aura. As he said to wait for his services until night so as to make her sleep schedule more regular, she tilted her chin in a nod of acknowledgement. "I’ll keep that in mind. My sleep schedule has been a bit off." The ooze made her sleep in deep, coma-like states that Mel feared she’d never come out of. Her sleeping was much less terrifying for the poor badger, but even she noticed she slept a lot. Besides talking to her packmates and offering the best help she could for her pack, being in bed all day was sometimes a bit..well, dull. Thus, sleeping was ome of the only activities she could do. And finally, the healer revealed his name. Deion. Laeta offered a soft smile at his introduction, brief, yet satisfactory. "Well, thank you again, Deion. You might’ve heard Mel mention my name, Laeta. You can call me Lae, as well." His room was right across the hall - convenient, and if needed, Mel could run over and fetch him. "I already feel more comfortable thanks to your treatment." She was already looking forward to the next treatment, seeing as how the male knew just where her bones hurt the most. It was certainly unique, and a talent Deion should utilize for other patients as well. Luckily, ones who weren’t paralyzed as she was. "Speech"