Lips Of An Angel
07-10-2013, 05:47 AM
Orica, used to the male's little grunts and hisses at every touch of her tongue, had braced for something quite loud and terrifying when she yanked on the splinters. Her expectations were proved true, and she was quite lucky the male didn't snap her tail off while he was at it. Being such a sweet, sensitive sort, one might've expected the girl to cower back from the male's fury, even her own family would've expected it. But a new side of the girl was showing. When it came to healing, she was in her own world, on her own terms. She still had a job to do here and the male wasn't getting off easy just because he knew how to wail. "Big baby," Orica muttered around the sliver of bark in her teeth. She spit it out sideways, finally done, and was begining to lick at the male's back to clean the wounds when she heard his question. "Why are you helping me?" Orica twitched her bit fluffy ears like a rabbit's. "Well, because you need help, silly." The cadence to her voice made it should like it was the most natural thing in the world. What was the point of having skills and abilities and strengths if you didn't use them to help others? That was what she'd been taught by her parents, and, really, her whole pack. It had been Glaciem's custom to take in any wolf that needed shelter - like her friend Ithy, or the great grizzly Zanire. It was what made them so strong and so powerful. What other pack had come through as much as they had? Orica always loved hearing the stories - about the time when Aunt Crusade had been kidnapped, or about how the mountain in their last territory had exploded! It was horrible that such things ever happened, but boy did they make great tales! It stirred something in Orica, someday maybe she could go on adventures like that - traveling far and risking her life, but not now. For now she was happy to stay with her beloved family and just help out the odd stranger. This one here was certainly odd enough. Though she'd answered his question lightly, it had made her wonder. She was starting to get the idea that the lone hunter wasn't used to people being nice to him. Though he couldn't have been much more than a year older than herself, Orica got the feeling that he'd been through some bad times. She stared at the back of his head as he lay there. Her eyes became a little sad and a little curious. She'd paused, quiet for a few seconds, but now she turned again so that, though still parallel, her head was by his now. In fact her head was more or less over his. planting one paw beside the male's, and tucking the other up against her bodice, she leaned over him, stretching out her neck and tucking in her little white chin so that she was looking at him upside down. "Didn't you have healers in your pack?" She didn't say 'don't you have' because she knew from his scent that he wasn't around enough wolves to be a pack (that was a trick she'd just learned a month ago and was very proud of!) but everyone had to start somewhere right? Most wolves, even if they became rogues later, had a birthpack. |
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