Fighting Like Cats and Dogs

The moment Syanna saw Ezra's  hackles raise and his fur bristle, she knew that her silent prayers had gone unanswered by whatever gods hated her. Ezra was going to fight the sabertooth tiger. Ezra ordered her to start making her way towards the castle, but she narrowed her eyes at him with a vehement shake of her head. She would not be dismissed like some child! "Ezra, don't-!" she tried to plead with him, but it was too late. The saber cat lunged for him, and with a growl, Ezra engaged the predator. Syanna stumbled back away from the fight, her heart in her throat while she watched the dappled boy start tearing away at the cat with ferocious lethality. The fight was bloody and gruesome, and while it was awful to watch, Syanna couldn't bring herself to look away. She wasn't about to run like a coward and leave him out here all on his own!

Backpedaling until she had reached the edge of the clearing, Syanna watched with wide, horrified eyes as Ezra and the cat grappled with one another, seeing crimson blood spilling all over the grass, but unable to see who it was coming from. Please don't get hurt please don't get hurt please don't get hurt! The silent mental pleas repeated over and over in her head. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if anything happened to Ezra because of her. After a few moments that felt more like hours, Ezra tore away the cat's throat, the feline dying with a gurgling choking sound. But just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she heard Ezra give a pained growl, her heart stopping while he shoved the dying cat away and turned back to her.

"Oh my gods, Ezra!" Syanna cried out when she saw the ragged laceration on his side. She was already running to him as quickly as she could, doing her best to not put too much weight on her sprained leg. She arrived to him just as he sank back to his haunches, his breathing strained with the pain he was clearly feeling. "Don't move, okay?" she told him, instructing more than asking while she set her satchel down and began to inspect the wound. It was hard to tell how much of the blood covering him was his own and how much was the saber cat's, but either way, the tear in his side didn't look good. Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a cloth and began to press it to the wound, trying to slow the flow of blood and clean it enough to get a clear picture of what she was working with.

"Eat this now," she ordered him, reaching into her bag and retrieving a small bundle of meadowsweet. She had a strong hunch it wouldn't be enough to ease the pain and wouldn't kick in fast enough, but it would at least help until she could see the wound. "You big, stupid idiot, why did you do that?!" she muttered under her breath while she watched with slight panic as the white cloth steadily turned a dark red with his blood. "I told you to run! I specifically didn't want this to happen to you!" She looked up at him with furious green eyes, but behind the superficial anger lay worry and concern. She wasn't angry at him, she was angry because he had gotten hurt because of her.

After a few moments, Syanna slowly peeled the cloth away from the wound and grimaced when she saw the cut through several layers of skin and exposed muscle. He would require stitches for sure, and if he hadn't broken any bones she'd be shocked. Fortunately, it didn't look life-threatening if she treated it right. Reaching down into her bag on reflex, Syanna peered down at her supplies—and hesitated. She only had a small stock of plants, and most of them were rare herbs she had been hoarding to trade with. Healing Ezra would use most if not all of her supplies and leave her with nothing to barter with for her own survival. The vulpine-hued fae peered back up at the stupid dire boy that had gotten hurt saving her. She could see the pain he was trying to hide in those sky blue eyes. If she didn't do something, he'd bleed out and die. There was no chance of getting someone from his pack out here in time. Either she saved him or he died.

It wasn't a choice she found difficult to make. Syanna reached into her satchel and pulled out everything she had. A salve of wintergreen and periwinkle she'd made back up north, some kava, a nearly empty roll of bandaging, her suture kit, and two petals of wolfsbane. A deep frown creased her brow as she considered her options. "Lie down on your side," she told him while motioning with her paw to lie down, then paused and fixed him with an exasperated look and amended, "Your good side." She didn't think it had to be said, but Ezra had already proven himself a little dopey in her presence. Once he was lying down, she pressed the cloth to his side again while looking around for something to use as bandaging. "1 to 10 scale, how bad is the pain?" she asked. His answer would gauge what she had to use for him.

"Syanna Alluráin"