Not quite a mountain goat

“Poison?!” Bellamy’s mind echoed the she-wolf’s words thickly, green eyes snapping open disconcertedly as she peered over at the purple flowers now cascading down the side of the rock, teeth gritted against her screaming wounds. A feeling of cold washed over at her, heart-rate jumping up again due to the close call. “You were going to feet me poison?!” She half-yelled in a scratchy voice, tone accusatory towards the lioness and distaste curling her delicate features. Belle was certain that it hadn’t been on purpose so her tone was laced more with tired disbelief rather than anger. If she’d been in a better state she might’ve laughed, more out of shock than anything.

As the wolf busied herself Bellamy regarded her movements and satchel with strained curiosity, nose drawing in the earthy notes of scent emanating from the wolf’s herbs. She winced at the she-wolf’s touch, but her impressively smooth and methodical movements were having a calming effect on Belle. It was clear that this wolf knew exactly what she was doing.

The she-wolf’s claims of ‘pain-relief’ and ‘healing’ sounded promising to Bellamy’s ears; not that she could verify any of the wolf’s claims, herself having an incredibly rudimentary and fragmented knowledge of herbology. This wolf could be playing her for a complete fool, and Belle would be none the wiser. Still, Belle tried to grab onto as many strands of information as she could as the healer spoke, desperately wanting to be able to use this information for later, but most of it slipped straight through her hazy mind. Still, the healer’s voice was gentle and soothing, bringing back warm memories of her childhood pack’s kindly healer who had often tended to Belle’s scrapes and ailments she gathered from her frequent misadventures. Despite herself, the young she-wolf couldn’t help but get lulled into a sense of security.

Bellamy’s ears pricked forward as the dark female offered her the concoction, carefully inspecting the mixture. The thought of poison still lingered in the back of her mind and played sourly along her tastebuds. The dusty-brown she-wolf took a deep breath and steeled herself before taking it in her mouth, quickly downing it. She let out a shaky breath through her nostrils, teeth gritted as she tried her best not to throw up the foreign mixture. “Thank you…” Bellamy said with quiet appreciation towards the she-wolf’s efforts once she’d somewhat regained her composure. It was evident in her tone that she was not just referring to the herbs, but also to her anti-poison intervention.

“Is that helping? She’s not hurting you, is she?” The lioness’s worried voice bounced around Bellamy’s mind as she once again rested her head and closed her eyes. “No more hurt than I would’ve been ingesting poison…” She muttered with half-hearted vehemence, not having the energy to be truly angry at the lioness. Strain crossed her features as the wolf inspected her wounds, wincing at the light touches. Now she only had to wait for the herbs to kick in, and take away the singeing pain.