dying in L.A.

Talking between each other, the ghosts seemed to have quite a bit to say. Maybe they weren't ghosts. Ghosts didn't breathe all over you. Or rub plants on you. "Your right, the issue is mostly malnutrition and exhaustion," Which, had he the energy or the voice, he could have told these two himself. It was no secret to him that his body was in bad shape. "but I'm cleaning out his pads with Trillium - its a rare herb, but its ideal for keeping away infection, and the pawpaws are the worst place for infection to grow. i'm binding it with White Willow bark to keep it clean, and give the skin a chance to heal without being stretched from movement." The sensation of physical touch was wholly unfamiliar, but he wasn't sure if he hated it or not. Definitely had to be a real wolf, since a ghost would pass right through him. Shush, shush, shush, went the herbs over his body. Moved here and there over old scars.

Something cool pressed up against his paws, soothing the ache of his pads. He couldn't help the soft sigh that came with the easing tension of his muscles. That felt nice. No one ever made his body feel nice before, they only made it feel bad. White willow bark. His master had never used this before. Maybe it wasn't a useful poison, so he had ignored it. “Lets get him to the stream, we can wash these paws better there and get food and water into him.” This time she spoke in a way that he could only assume meant him. Washing his paws sounded nice. Were they gross? He had to assume they were filthy, after walking so much. Laying on the ground had helped him regain feeling in his paws, and he flexed his toes a little. The ones in his lame leg twitched, but didn't extend as much as the rest.

The lady prodded at his ribs none too gently, forcing him to grunt and groan under the assault. he could only wonder to himself why she chose to inflict that pain upon him. They weren't missing or anything, they were very clearly noticeable. Why was she doing this to him? He blinked a few times, trying to force both eyes to stay open for a little while. To get a better idea of where he was. Firm pressure settled itself around his ribs, but it didn't hurt as much as the poking and prodding of paws. “I still think we are better off moving him, are you ready?”

"I can walk." he wheezed. It was the first time he'd used his voice in days. It sounded pathetic. Not to mention, he was outright lying. However, he felt bad making these strangers take care of him. He was truly a disgusting worm, just like Grim had always said. A leech, even. Using up herbs from strangers, all because he was too weak to do simple things like walking.