Oleander slowly made his way to the borders of his home. His back was laden heavily with the poor woman. She had screamed and seemed to black out when he shifted her up there, her injuries were so great. He hoped she hadn't died.

He howled low into the ground for Basilisk as he approached the trees, unable to lift his head much higher without risking her slipping off. He didn't wait at the border since we was Armada and the girl was blacked out, no point to wait. Bas could yell at him about it if he felt the need. He needed to get this girl to the medicine den quickly and tend the large wound on her back. Maybe Wylan could help him.



"Speech"

Basilisk heard the urgency in Ollie’s howl and trotted quickly to the border of the mile-high woods. He hadn’t been far from them, and arrived to see what Ollie was carrying. He raised a brow at the sight. The purple woman was almost as large as the healer was. “You’ve come far since you were bed bound” he commented with a hint of pride in his voice as he stepped forward to help her carry Vesper the rest of the way. There had been a time not that long ago that Ollie wouldn’t have dreamed of carrying such a burden.

“A new recruit? We don’t do charity, you understand.” He said, his voice partly teasing as he moved to assist. His words a nudge to hear the story of how he came to be carrying the girl.

"Basilisk"

Ollie was ever grateful when Basilisk made his quick appearance. He hummed proudly at the comment, he had come far! He was determined and quick. Would he have been as determined if he had grown up the same as his siblings? He'd spent his whole childhood in bed, no more! He was able to breathe easier as Bas helped him carry the girl to the healer's den.

When the girl was placed down he quickly got to work. His ears pricked up at the second comment, "Charity? Who do you think we are, some kind of sanctuary? She'll pay us back when she's better I think." He tried to tease right back, maybe not as well but he smirked. Preparing the paste quickly while he spoke, with her blacked out it was easy to administer and made a solid plaster over the worst of her wound. At least she was still breathing.

"Found her with a polar bear making her a meal. She was pretty tough to last even that long with it digging into her back. And these," He mentioned, pointing to long slashes further up her back, "I've never seen claw marks like that, I don't think the bear did that. Do you know what those are?" He asked.

"Speech"

Basilisk started to nod his head and then gave the white wolf a quick glance. “Do you know if she has any ties? Where did she come from?” He asked, finding himself wondering by Ollie's words if he didn't intend this wolf to be a Songbird. He'd expressed interest in gaining one of his own - and Basilisk had told him it would be allowed once he had a higher rank.


He helped put the girl on the bed, prepared to assist in the most basic ways if needed. Ollie explained where he had found the girl, and pointed to another mark. Basilisk took a closer look for himself. He'd gone to a slavers market with his Grandfather before, and again when he had purchased his most recent slave… he recognised the scars. “Looks like a whip mark, I've never seen anyone not a slave bare one before. I wonder if she isn't a runaway…” he mused out loud, through with the mess the bear had made of her back, it was possible he was miss reading it. He wasn't a healer.

He grabbed several large dock leaves, gathered last season, hung up to dry, and placed them to rehydrate in some pre-boiled tepid tea from earlier that day. He shook his head to the warlord's question about her ties, trying to recall the few mumbled words he caught.

"I didn't notice any pack scent, it was all bear and blood when I got there... Something about... won't go back, she promised?" He lifted a brow to his cousin to see what he thought about that.

The paste was coming along well, yarrow, arnica, st johns wort and plantain were getting mixed into a bowl, he stirred while they spoke.

"Mind adding a splash of that to this?" He asked, nodding to some tincture by Bas.
"Whips?" He remarked, he'd never seen whips around here, "We don't use those do we? What are those? I didn't bring trouble, did I?" He was still a rather young teen with minimal outside experience and extremely sheltered. He hoped he didn't make any trouble with the new Syndicate nearby. Did they use slaves?

"Speech"

Basilisk gave the mixture a dubious look as he followed the instructions he was given. He was expecting to stuff up even that small of a task. He really didn't have a knack for anything healing. He nodded his understanding and Ollie's work and moved forward, sniffing carefully at certain points of her body. Near her neck, her underside. Away from the worst of the blood marks. No pack, like Ollie said, but there was a hint of other wolves. Nothing and no one he recognised from Boreas or Auster, and the council meeting in the Hallows had gim him a good reservoir of scents to draw from.


“No, we don't. Too crude and damaging. I want our slaves to eventually seek a real rank in the Armada. If we treated them to the whip they would never strive to join us.” He explained, thinking there was now one exception to the rule. His Iggy. He would not allow her to leave the rank. “I believe we have ourselves here a runaway slave. If that proves true - people may come looking for her. We could probably buy her for little to nothing, your medical care would come at a steep cost.” He winked at Ollie

Ollie mixed the tincture into the paste and set it aside for a moment before grabbing a satchel of dried lavender. He gave it a few tosses and crunches then placed it by her nose to help her relax and maybe induce a deeper sleep than just a fainting spell.

He nodded to Basilisk's explanation. It made sense, and Bas was treating Ignita fairly well, surely she was eager to join a rank soon! Did they even have a rank that would suit her though?

He started to apply the paste but paused and looked Bas square in the eye as he conjectured the girl's status.

"You mean a slave has practically fallen in my lap?" How lucky was that? Has he met his own Songbird? Before he's a trauma specialist? And he saved her too! He wagged his tail, the youngster showing his age.

"Maybe when she's healed, I'll be the Trauma Specialist!" Hang on, it was starting to look like he only wanted the rank for a slave of his own. "For the record, I don't want to be a trauma specialist, just, for a songbird. I want to be specialist... because I'm really good at this." To be clear. Right? Right.

"Speech"

Basilisk’s lip twitched in a grin at Ollie’s words, and the clear excitement that followed them. Basilisk hadn’t exactly said that Ollie could keep her… but he supposed it was implied in what he had said, wasn’t it? “Let’s see where things fall first. But yes, if everything pans out, and you reach the rank by the time she’s healed, you can have her.” He agreed. He glanced at the young girl on Ollie’s table, and wondered exactly how much there was left to save. Would she be permanently damaged from those injuries?

“Find out more about her and who might be coming after her. Keep her close until we have more information.” He instructed his young healer. “And for the record, I’m counting on you being the best damn Trauma Specialist in the Armada.” he clapped the boy on the shoulder and winked. He was already coming to rely heavily on the white wolf.


"Basilisk"

Ollie nodded in eager agreement as he continued to apply the paste to her ruined back. Poor thing, hardly knows what she's gotten herself into. But hopefully, Ollie could help steer her into her own rank to stay with them one day, just like Bas was doing for Ignita. He was done with the paste over her back. He hoped one day her fur could grow back over the area but it was a long shot.

He nodded again to Bas's instructions on keeping her close and learning more about her. Thankfully he was always around and she was probably not going to be moving around anytime soon. He grabbed one of the rehydrated long wet leaves and laid carefully over the wounds, sealing them properly and letting the tea soothe and comfort the healing process.

Then Bas clapped him on the shoulder and set his expectations for Ollie to be the best trauma specialist in the Armada. He grinned brightly from ear to ear and his tail wagged behind him eagerly.
"Wouldn't dream of being anything less!" He replied and grabbed another leaf to lay carefully over his patient.

"I'll just bind this up then we can let her rest. Jace will be more than happy to laze about and keep an eye on her. Won't you buddy?" He indicated the white raccoon who was sitting by the entrance, stuffing his face with a honey treat and looking innocent. It was nice to have a raccoon in the family again.
"Speech!"

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