A temporary double satchel slapped his sides, filled to the brim, as he walked back in toward the Col from the Devil's Spout. When all this was over he wondered if Vesper would like to visit the geyser. It would be nice to help her explore more and get her out of the confines of the clinic. She was probably itching to explore.

The evening found Oleander wearily trotting into the clinic to offload the bag of fresh herbs. Many mushrooms and flowers and whole plants tumbled out. There he stood looking at each ingredient but kept rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, it was as if he couldn't see them. He should have acknowledged Vesper as he entered, but he forgot.

He spent his nights pacing around the obelisk or hallway outside the clinic, not wanting to disturb Vesper while she slept, or pacing within his room. Muttering about the symptoms of the patients, some of them had running noses and coughs, breathing raspy... respiratory, others had hallucinations and twitches...nervous system... If they spend too long in the woods they start getting respiratory effects. Others from eating the blighted meat get nervous system attacks. Was it two different blights or just one that attacked both systems?

His head thunked on the table where he had placed all the ingredients. His limbs trembled with fatigue. A tear escaped his eye and fell over his plain white cheek as he struggled to see through his viridian eyes at the ingredients.

"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

The pack was an oppressive place these days. Of course, the Songbird had always known it to be so. But now it was loudly subdued. People talked in hush whispers, and kept more to themselves. People were afraid, and you could feel it in the air. Vesper especially kept to herself. It was easy, she didn’t exactly know many wolves in the first place. She spent a lot of time in the clinic, tending to Oleander and helping him with his work.

She was quiet when he entered the den with a new batch of herbs and things to try. It seemed a random assortment to her untrained eye. Through healing was less of a mystery than it had been at the start. Still confusing, but not to the same degree. She watched him silently as he unloaded the bag and stared at it. Was he getting enough sleep? He looked like he was about to succumb to a nap right there over his work. She stepped closer, uncertain. “My Lord? Are you… well?” If he was falling sick, they were all doomed.


"Vesper"

He barely flicked his ear up as she called out to him. He blinked at the ingredients on the table trying to make his eyes get it together. He needed to be strong. He was so tired of being strong. Being strong gave her that mark on her face and had him responsible;e for curing the whole damn pack. What if there was no cure? What if this was just something that would work its way through and they could recover on their own? Hmm... It wouldn't be likely if the nervous system was so affected.

He was drifting again. He sighed and braced his trembling paws on the table to help push his head up.
"Sorry... yeah... no... I'm tired." He glanced at her, she already thought he was trash, there was no point in hiding from her anymore.

"I'm not sleeping well." He admitted, "Mind if I just talk through my process? I can tell you what these herbs are? Might keep me awake. I think I'm on to something." He asked, nodding for her to come closer.

"Speech"

She blinked surprised at the admission, then felt a spark of annoyance. He wasn’t supposed to be showing her weakness, he was supposed to be strong. The entire pack was depending on him. Wilder was depending on him. Then the emotion faded as she remembered his soft voice, asking her to see if his father was okay. He wasn’t that old, younger than her in the way of experience. Maybe it was her job to help him keep strong. She was certainly sick of feeling helpless and uncertain.

She was already planning on moving closer when he asked her to, so she came to his side, and sat across from him. “So what do these things do?” She asked, nodding her head towards his collection. Hoping her clumsy questions weren’t distracting.


"Vesper"

He had to admit, he missed her sass. While he was grateful for her attention he was braced for some pushback from her. He didn't think he'd have it in him to bite back much but somehow it was a reminder of the time before, a time when things weren't quite this hard.

With a curt nod and two hard blinks to wash away those dreadful tears he got to work. Thankful for her grounding questions. He can focus on those.

He pulled similar herbs together that had gotten mixed in the bag. He pulled out dainty white and green flowers first and put them in a pile. "This is Elderflower. Since it's spring time these are in abundance. The only part of the tree that can be used freshly and steeped in a tea. This'll help anyone with cold like symptoms, like the coughs, runny noses, and the like. This is perfect for those common spring colds."

He moved over a gathering of leaves attached to a rather strong-smelling root. He had washed the roots in a stream before bagging it. "This is valerian, It can used as a sleep aid, and pain reliever, and can soothe the nervous system. Like ya know when they're trembling? This should really help support those symptoms."

He gathered another bunch of bright green leaves but was very careful about only holding one side of the leaf, the top sides as he put them in a pile.
"This one is Stinging Nettle. It uses tiny needles to make an allergy response but to aching joints, it relieves the pain of inflammation and can overall lessen someone's allergic reaction to the season's pollen. It's another nervous system supporter."

There he had all three in a pile. then he picked up some plain looking mushrooms and a few red ones.
"This brown mushroom here, this is one of those trippy mushrooms. I'm thinking if we add one of these to each dose of cure it'll help sort out some of the hallucinations. Help them get grounded and bring them back." He looked into the face of his own father who didn't recognize him. "If this one doesn't work I have this one-" And he pulled up the red-capped mushroom, "In large quantities, this'll kill you. It's a rather mild amanita though, but it can also induce hallucinations. I was going to try the brown one first then the red one."
He licked his lips and took a shakey breath.

"I'm going to show you how to make it." He looked up at her, his face resolved, determined, tired, and agonized. She looked rather pretty sitting there. If not for his shame echoed back at him.

He reached slowly out to her nose, was the scratch healing like he hoped? or scarring like he feared? His expression melted into guilt as he looked at the scratch over her nose.

"Speech"

She listened to what he had to say, knowing she was a sounding board and didn’t have any real expertise to offer to the subject. That was okay, this was important. Real important. She struggled not to yawn as he continued on, explaining each herb in detail. The glaze left her eyes however when he mentioned the mushrooms. “Adding to their hallucinations is supposed to help?” she said dryly, and slightly amused. Hey, maybe it was a real tactic, what did she know?

“Me?” She said, august and surprised. Surely he wasn’t serious. He wanted the wolf who thought tea was a witches brew to make medicine? He reached out for her, his paw precariously close to her face. She might have flinched, except she was too distracted to do so. Instead, she had the audacity to grab his paw, and reach out and touch his face. “Are you sick?” She asked, as if that could be the only explanation as to why he wanted her to make it.


"Vesper"

She asked about adding to the hallucinations, and he shrugged, "The fungus on the blight led me to the idea of using fungus to cure it. Since we're dealing with hallucinations, I figured that would be the key to bringing them back to normal. Kind of like a brain reset. It might stop the hallucinations, kind of like canceling it out."

She was aghast at the prospect of making the medicine. Incredulous. He knew she would be. But he needed her to know how to make it before...
She grasped his outstretched paw and asked the question outright.

He slumped his head back down to the table. She should be able to feel the tremble in his paws as she held him.

"A tiger's been eating you this whole time. You haven't been reacting to it." His deep green eyes watched her deep blues with a glassy haze and defeated posture he'd been struggling to hide since he left for the cure. There was almost a goofy smile on his lips as he watched her for her reaction.

"We'll test it first on me." He said, his smile practically turning into a shit-eating one.

"Speech"

Vesper wasn't a selfless wolf. She barely tolerated those around her, and was constantly finding ways to undermine them. The blight in the Armada had frightened and subdued her. Had chipped away at her personality a little more. She discovered she had… affection for some of these Armada wolves, and was afraid for them as well as for her own skin. It wasn't a fun realisation. She didn't want to care. She wanted to grab her stuff and leave them all behind. 


Listening to Oleander admit he was sick she came to a realisation. One she hated with all of her body. She made a face, disgust at herself at what she was about to say. “Then it's a good thing I've had a scratchy throat all day. If the lead blight healer went and killed his idiot self, the rest of the pack would suffer.” There was no way to guarantee he wasn't hallucinating the right herbs in front of him. If he took it, and died, they were all screwed. Herself included. “...my lord.” She added as an afterthought. But she was too afraid to be properly respectful. “Show me how to make it, and try not to kill me.” She said, her voice subdued. There was no way she was agreeing with Oleander being the guinea pig.

The look on her face nearly made him break out in giggles. Instead, he flopped his head the other way, "What? You're not going to take the opportunity to poison your idiot master? Run for the hills? Leave us all behind?" He had run the gambit with his hallucinations already in the woods. Visions of seeing his family dead around him, chasing Vesper through the trees only to see her get killed by a bear, taste-testing every herb he came across just to be sure he was picking the right ones. He glanced off her shoulder as a shadow moved in his vision.

"I've been testing them. They're only visual. They don't make any sounds, and they don't alter tastes." He sighed and got up, taking his paw back from her. "I've been able to keep the fever down with feverfew, but it stopped working yesterday." He turned to the hearth with a sloppy motion. Now that the cat was out of the bag to her he didn't need to pretend to have his shit together. It had been almost more exhausting to pretend he was well than to come up with this idea.

"Let's get this brewing, mind starting the fire?" He started and felt around for the pot, not trusting his eyes. He was too tired to pretend to be Mister Healer Master. There was no mask he had the energy to use anymore.

"Speech"

He couldn't trust his sensors, and seemed in denial of the fact. How long had he been hiding his symptoms for? She grimaced again at his words. “And relive my Mums death in some woods somewhere and die alone when the blight gets me? No thanks.” She said, her very had lost any presence at a respectful tone at this point. She was good at forgetting her place.


She grabbed the pot from his paws and started the fire. She was accustomed to the den by now, and Oleander's equipment. Once the fire was a healthy size, she turned back to him. “walk me through the steps.” she suggested, keeping a watchful eye on him as if expecting him to lose his shit at any moment.

He sighed as she reminded him of her experience. Her voice had the usual dry cast to it, she hated him. She had to. He didn't fight as she took the pot out of his paws. He looked up at her with a half smile. She was hovering over the pot waiting for instructions while he was half slumped on the floor.

He turned his gaze to the floor as a familiar muddy green figure decided to writhe around Vesper in his vision. A common hallucination he had been battling with. His tone turned serious and caustic.

"Fill the pot with fresh water. Get it warming over the fire. Cut, chop or smash the valerian root into several pieces and toss the whole thing in right away. Once the water's boiling pull it off the fire and add all the elderflowers and nettles. You don't want to touch the undersides of the nettle leaves or the stems. Once they're cooked or dried nettles don't sting."

The floor was wooshing like the surface of a river. He closed his eyes, another tear threatened to pull at his eyes and flow down.
After a few moments of letting her do the job, he looked up at her again and sighed.

"Vesper...I'm sorry for scratching you. I shouldn't have done that." He looked down at his claws, unsheathing them. The talons were naturally sharp and dangerously curved. He watched them morph into spirals and grow into the ceiling. He almost looked bored at it, knowing it was fake and yet so very real. Part of him was completely convinced there was a tiger in the room with them, another part was shouting at him that none of it was real, he must still be in the woods imagining this whole thing. He must still be lying next to the image of his mother's dead body, mauled by polar bears.

"Speech"

Oleander was… not well. She wasn't sure how she had missed the signs at first. She followed his instructions to the letter. She wasn't entirely comfortable working with the herbs, but she pushed through. She had done plenty of things she wasn't comfortable with in her life.


At some point, she'd been forced to admit she had it good with Oleander. He had treated her better than any of the slavers back where she had been born. Other than the one paw swipe, he hadn't laid his hands on her. Didn't mean she wouldn't be a contrary, difficult slave. But she wasn't ready to give up on him.


When he spoke next, his voice was soft. She finished adding the last of the herbs, and waiting for instructions about the mushrooms. She didn't say anything to him yet.

He tilted his head at her as she didn't respond. His head tilt was more comical than he intended as he was all the way over. That's fine, she didn't have to forgive him.


"It'll be effective when we wait for the elderflower and nettles to sit for about half an hour. So It's time to chop up the mushrooms." He noted as he got up to look over the supplies of mushrooms.

"I don't remember if there were three piles or two. Didn't I just get a brown pile and a red one? What are these black ones?" He asked and grasped at an invisible black pile for a moment until he understood. "Ah. That answers that then." He nodded and turned back to her with the next set of instructions. "Chop up the brown mushrooms into a knuckle size amount and add three pieces to one cup. Pour the tea over the mushrooms while it is still hot. I don't want to throw all the mushrooms into one pot yet. I want to know which one is most effective." He sat his rump heavily down again. Would she ever forgive him? Why? And since when did she get so pretty? Oh, she's always been pretty that's right... Oh, he just didn't want to add to her bad experiences... "by smacking her. good job Ollie." He turned with a curled lip at an invisible wolf over his shoulder but saw the figure the voice would have belonged to across the other side of the room. He glared at it. Vesper didn't respond to it.

"Ah... I can hear them now..." Fuck. He laid his head on the table and watched her work.


"Speech"

She was trying not to think too hard about what she was going to do, and why she was going to do it. If she considered the way she didn't trust Oleander's perception when he was sick, she would lose her nerve. She didn't speak to him, knowing her voice would be sharp and unforgiving. Fear did that to a person. 


Besides, Oleander was quite busy making that point for her. Busy grabbing at something that wasn't there. Was Ollie getting worse? Or just less afraid to show how bad he had gotten?


She was shaking a little as she finished With the mushrooms, pouring the hot tea into a cup of mushrooms. What had he said? Let it sit for a while?


She put the cup to the side and dipped a cloth into some cold water, trotting over to Ollie whose head was on the table. She laid the cloth over the back Of his neck. Doing everything she could to think of nothing. Not the wolves of this pack, not their fate, not Ollie's condition, and certainly not what she intended to do.

He blinked slowly at her as she worked. She wasn't being snarky, she was scared. He liked to make light of situations when he was scared. He liked to joke and play and laugh when he was scared. Anything but face the fear. She faced the fear. She was quiet and productive and... dutiful? When it served her. As she moved around his eyes followed her, not wanting to let her out of his sight. The only thing he was sure was real in this room was her. Her smokey grey fur looked practically purple. Why would her old master be so cruel to her? Would she ever want to be with someone on her own terms? She certainly wouldn't want to be with him regardless. He fucked everything up. He got himself sick... again. But it was nice to just... be sick and not be totally coddled over...

He sighed as the cool cloth was draped over his neck, it quieted some of the strange noises trying to catch his attention.

"Vesper?" He tried again, "Thank you. I'm sorry I treated you so badly." Ignored her when he was overwhelmed by her sass, left her alone for days while she healed, hit her face, shoved her to read the obelisk... he just needed to be himself. He can't be like Bas... He glanced at the tea.

"It should be ready by now." He said, easing himself up to grab it.

"Speech"

She huffed quietly into the dimly lit healers den. Annoyed, because he wanted to talk and she didn't. He was badly sick, dealing with it alone and all he could think about was his guilt. She sighed, taking a seat beside him. A move that would have been insulting to her slavers. Something that would have gotten her beaten for daring to think she was worth seating where they sat. No, the only time that was allowed was if they were pulling her onto their lap…


“The slavers would have cut their losses and run, spreading this blight.” She said quietly, knowing that fit their selfish nature. “I'd never met a healer because it was every man for himself. It's different here. You're different.” She grimaced as if the kind words were physically painful. “I… forgive you.” She said, reaching out and plucking the tea before he could grab it. She downed the contents with a grimace.

He was listening to her as he pulled the tea closer to him. He glanced at her and tilted his head, a soft smile on his delirious face as she mentioned he was different than the slavers. He was glad for that. She... forgives him? Really? Before he could process it she grabbed the tea in front of him and downed it fast. His lips part gently in slow-motion gasp. His eyes blink blink blink.

"Wait did you just...?" If he looked down was the cup still there? Nope, it wasn't there. He put his nose down on where it would have been and nope, it definitely wasn't there.

"Was there a cup here? Did you... drink it?" Did she really forgive him? "If you're sick, you'll probably feel better in a few hours. If you're not, you might start to see and feel things sooner than that." He shook his head and chuckled. She really was just like *that.*

"You're not very nice you know." He says dreamily as he lays his head on the table sideways, looking up at her. He was so used to his siblings' overbearing and abundant cuddles. Wylans chipper attitude and hugs. It was nice to just be and not need to worry about worrying and burdening them. He hoped Wyl was doing okay.

"Speech"

She thought she might have been starting to feel the first tinges of sickness, but she wasn’t sure, either. At Oleander's words, she realised she ought to make a second batch of the tea. To cure the healer, if she ended up too delirious to help him.

She sighed, and got to work heating the water again. “No, and I'm not supposed to be.” She told him with a scowl. Slaves weren’t nice, they were property. Angry property that was quietly plotting your demise. But she hadn’t acted like that, had she? She finished the second batch of herbs, and poured it over some mushrooms once more. Putting it aside (out of Oleander's reach) for just in case.

“But the pack needs you, and someone had to do it.” she rested her head on the table, waiting to see if she would end up just as delirious as him, or if she would be cured.

He sighed.
She cared in her own way. Probably because of Wilder.

"We could have tested it on my dad..." He muttered, ignoring the snow-white figure in the doorway beckoning him, despite how much it hurt. Her words were too faint and chiming to be the real thing. He tried to focus on Vesper's movements as she made another cup of tea.

"What would you do if you weren't a slave?" He asked, dragging his chin over the table as she moved about the room. Would he remember this conversation? He hoped he would. She never had the chance to explore the world. He didn't either actually, he liked sticking close to home.

"If you had a chance to do anything your heart desired... What would it be?" He asked. His voice shook a little as he trembled. Hopefully, the questions would help pass the time to find out how she felt.

"Speech"

“You're not very good at this, are you?” She said, mildly amused. “Slave master and healer. You're supposed to use the slave. If you break it, you can just buy another.” Derision, self deprecation. She knew her place in the world. It was Oleander who got confused.


She licked her dry lips. She was wrong, she hadn't been sick. She knew by the wolf that sat on Oleander's other side. When he saw her watching he grinned and waved a paw at her.


Her face lost all colour, and she understood then just how confusing the hallucinations could be. How it was a wonder that Oleander was even functioning at all. He looked so real, there was nothing fantasy about him at all. “That's one I think is most likely my father.” She said in a hushed whisper, nodding her head at the wolf beside Ollie. She swallowed. “He strangled my mother when she brought me time to escape. She was dying anyway, he just made it faster.” Her ears were folded, her tail tucked and her head ducked. A proper submissive pose.