Do you know where the wild things go?

'CAUSE THIS IS A WASTELAND, MY ONLY RETREAT.

Her response caused his brow to wrinkle in concern. Did her voice seem faint? He'd never spoken to her before in his life so he couldn't be sure. Soon, he'd realize that he'd been right to be worried about her well-being. In trying to get down from her perch, she'd stumbled and fallen to the ground. The injured area took the brunt of her landing and she cried out, a sound that made Tiresias' fur stand up. He was no longer concerned with his welfare. She was obviously in need of medical attention.



Cautiously but quickly, he approached her. She rolled onto her side, facing away from him, and the wound was right in front of him. Upon closer examination, he noticed that the wound was rather deep and would certainly require medical attention. Tiresias cursed himself internally for not carrying a bag of commonly used herbs. He'd have to waste time in finding them, and hopefully they weren't far away. The female flattened her ears against her skull, reassuring Tiresias that she was alive. Barely, but enough.



Usually, he would say nothing during an emergency, but since he was alone, someone had to keep her awake. As he mentally made a list of what he needed, he asked her important questions. "Can you tell me your name? Are you with a pack? Is there someone nearby I can call?" The questions were perfunctory; the answers meant little unless they were completely wrong. Her name would be used often to try to keep her conscious but the other information was filler.



Agrimony, lemon balm... where are they!? he thought to himself, then raised his head to the wind, sniffing the air for traces of the herbs he needed.

TAG: alena! . WORDS: 288 . NOTES: none.