Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey!

Cascade's tail brushed the leaves behind her in an excited wag, her head high and eyes far too bright for the early morning. She was feeling chipper. But when Valentine appeared and stiffened, sending her a significant look, her tail stilled and she herself straightened. Oh? Was something up? Anticipation quivered over her, but he didn't seem inclined to elaborate at the moment, so she may as well just get started and find out from him later what had him so chilly. Maybe she could... warm him up. (-eye brow wiggle-)

Clearing her throat to get everyone's immediate attention (and to draw her own attention back to the matter at hand) she hopped to her feet. "All right ladies," she barked, cheerfully ignoring the fact that not all of the present wolves were even female, let alone ladies. "So I cannot even remember the last time someone called a meeting of the healers. It has to have been seasons ago. Being a healer doesn't make you less accountable for regular training than a fighter, even if your training is a little less noticeable than a fighter's. You think you need it less? No - you need that practice more. When fighters come home from war torn and shredded, broken bones and losing blood, it is on you whether they live or die. It is on your training whether you have the skill and the steady nerves and paws to save lives. When a bitch struggles to give birth to the pack's next generation, are you going to be prepared to save her life? Her pups' lives? Or will you have been too caught up in your own lives and your own specialties to bother learning the rest of it? If you're going to call yourself a healer, you bet your ass you are going to be learning to be a healer, every day of the rest of your lives, or you aren't of any use whatsoever. So! Your days of slacking and riding by on the success of the rest of the pack are at an end, healers."

Throughout her speech, her cheerful attitude, her grin, did not falter a smidgen. Oh she meant every word. Every single word. She'd be holding them accountable. With the way the pack was set up, the way the personalities in the pack were, there would be conflict. There would be war. There would be raids, and spars, and maims. They could not afford a bevy of healers who could not do everything that a healer might be called on to do.

Well, her scolding was over and done with, and she stared out at them with bright eyes. Well, there weren't going to be enough healers for her to sit out and administrate like she'd planned... Her gaze fell on Valen, and a wicked grin curved her muzzle. Good, he'd volunteered himself! "Split up into pairs. Rhythm and Integra, Renhett and Evangeline... Revenge and Valentine." She quirked a brow at him, giggling internally. Revenge was clearly... grossly... ill, so it amused her to stick him with poor Valentine, but even more than that he'd been the most absent of all the healers, and she trusted Valentine wouldn't let him slack now. "Once you're in your pairs, one of you is going to play healer, and the other is going to play victim. I mean, patient." She gave them all a fangy grin. "I will be going around giving each of the patients their ailment and a list of symptoms they should be exhibiting. The healer of the pair will then examine them and determine what the symptoms are, and attempt to diagnose them based on the symptoms, and when you believe you have found your diagnosis you will call me over and detail the treatment to me, and I will let you know if it would be successful. If it's not, you will have two more chances to attempt to treat them before failing."

She had spent a lot of time coming up with these ailments and the treatments for them - she was battlefield medic, not a healer, and had really very little interest in healing as compared to other fields except as it supplemented her in those other fields, but she'd put in the effort to make sure the pack's healers did the same.

She waited as they situated themselves.


""

I hope you can make me laugh
Six feet down when we're bored of each other