Walk | Talk | Think
It was just a soft noise, not even conveying coherent words, but still managed to express the wolf's discomfort as Callisto roused him at last from unconsciousness. The tightness within her chest released suddenly, as did the breath in her lungs. He's alive... She could hardly believe it, having listened to the pessimistic voice that prepared her constantly for the worst, since it seemed most likely given how infrequently things ever turned out right in her life. But Jakart was alive, and as he rolled his sore and broken frame to his side of his own volition, Callisto felt her legs nearly give up and drop her into a seated position. He's alive!
Relief sneaked up on her, making her vision blur with stinging tears, and gently she drew her muzzle out from beneath his. Gods, he looked awful. The water had mussed up his grey coat, and somewhere during the flood he had gotten on the receiving end of a lot of debris. Red wounds split the skin beneath his fur, adding their own mess as they desperately needed to be cleaned out and dressed to heal. But Jakart said nothing of his own pain or discomfort, did not even seem to pay any acknowledgment to his state of being. All he managed to do was express his happiness that she was alright.
Silver-blue eyes drawn back to his honest expression, Callisto could not believe his selflessness. Did he not realize that he looked half dead - that he might have been dead if things had played out just a little bit differently? It was beyond her comprehension, and she could only shake her head as she thought of how certain she had been that he would be found dead, how prepared she had made herself never to see him alive again. "You dumbass," the exasperated healer whispered as she closed her eyes against the tears and tucked her head softly beside his, feeling his tongue slide gently against her cheek.
For a moment, she did not move but held perfectly still, breathing in Jakart's scent and listening to each breath he made. The urge - that was practically a need - to hold him to her and possessively claim what she had thought lost stirred within her and made her hesitate in her current position. It was not like to her to feel this way for another, to feel so happy knowing someone was alive. But she was, and rather helplessly she placed two soft licks against the edge of his muzzle, opening her watery eyes to look at him. "I need to find something to treat your wounds," she explained, willing her low voice not to wobble though it did once. Though it was likely entirely unnecessary, she added, "Don't move."
Feeling more confident in her legs, she slowly rose to her feet, once more taking quick stock of Jakart's injuries. Scrapes and cuts and gashes were the most obvious issues, followed, she supposed, by the exposure to such harsh conditions. Something to clean the wounds, something to promote healing, something for pain... With her list of necessities made, Callisto backed away from Jakart and turned to set off determinedly in search of plants that had survived the flood and would assist with anything that she needed to treat Jakart's wounds.
Belladonna stood by watching her mistress as she brought her friend back around and promptly set off in search of healer's necessities. She had not missed the urgency, the worry, or the relief that had moved through the wolf, nor the tears that had misted the woman's eyes. It all puzzled the little black cat, though it seemed obvious deeper sentiments ran beneath the cool and casual appearance that the healer tried so hard to display. Padding closer to the prone grey wolf, Bella turned her pale gold eyes from Callisto to Jakart, and seating herself with a curious wave of her tail she asked him, "How you feeling?"
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