Little boys are made of ick and sick
Field Medic
07-16-2021, 05:25 PM
He might not have been around as much as she would have liked, but Mojito's visits to see them had never been diminished because of that. If anything, that made them even more special! Satira loved her father, and although Naiche was the more present fixture in her life, he wasn't her father—he would never be in her eyes. Tira gave a happy whine when Mojito wrapped her tiny form up in his loving embrace and covered her head in loving licks, the little princess basking in the adoration her father gave her. She wished he could stay, and had wanted to tell him as such on many occasions, but she also didn't want to make him feel bad for not being able to. He was doing his best for her, and nothing could ever shatter the hero worship she had for him and Asla. Her parents were simply the greatest; there was no two ways about it.
Satira gleefully led her doctor father into the den just as Arcturus was starting to wander out of his little quarantine room. Tira scowled and huffed; of course he wouldn't listen to instructions and stay in bed like he was supposed to! Her brother had to make everything so difficult! She cringed a little when Arc spoke, his voice sounding like death warmed over, and slunk back to hang along Mojito's side to put some space between her and her sick brother. It wasn't that she didn't love Arc—quite the contrary, in fact—but she desperately did not want to catch what he had! While Mojito worked, Satira stayed alongside him, studying him, watching what he did and listened to what he said. He was so smart when it came to medical things. She wanted to be just as smart as him one day, so she needed to pay attention to the practical lessons when she could.
Mojito ran through some symptoms with Arc, and the boy confirmed them. She watched her father check Arc's forehead, then began to sort out some herbs he'd brought with him. Ever curious, Satira took his invitation and came closer, letting her father's tail wrap around her like a warm, fuzzy snake. She watched with wide, fascinated eyes while he divided up the medicine and told them how colds worked, how they were caught, and how to treat and prevent them. She couldn't resist shooting Arc a little smug smirk when he mentioned that getting too dirty or overworked led to getting sick, like a "Haha, I told you!" look. Maybe now the filthy boy would grumble less about taking baths and grooming his fuzzy, messy hair. "What plants are those, Daddy? What do they do?" she asked, pointing with a tiny paw at the herbs. "Is Arc contagious? Is he gonna die? Can I get sick from him too?"
As she asked the last question, she peered over at her sniffling brother. They hadn't gotten to cuddle and she'd been afraid to be near him to care for him in case she got sick too. Maybe after he took his medicine, that could change. She wanted to help her poor suffering brother.
"Satira Fatalis"
Satira gleefully led her doctor father into the den just as Arcturus was starting to wander out of his little quarantine room. Tira scowled and huffed; of course he wouldn't listen to instructions and stay in bed like he was supposed to! Her brother had to make everything so difficult! She cringed a little when Arc spoke, his voice sounding like death warmed over, and slunk back to hang along Mojito's side to put some space between her and her sick brother. It wasn't that she didn't love Arc—quite the contrary, in fact—but she desperately did not want to catch what he had! While Mojito worked, Satira stayed alongside him, studying him, watching what he did and listened to what he said. He was so smart when it came to medical things. She wanted to be just as smart as him one day, so she needed to pay attention to the practical lessons when she could.
Mojito ran through some symptoms with Arc, and the boy confirmed them. She watched her father check Arc's forehead, then began to sort out some herbs he'd brought with him. Ever curious, Satira took his invitation and came closer, letting her father's tail wrap around her like a warm, fuzzy snake. She watched with wide, fascinated eyes while he divided up the medicine and told them how colds worked, how they were caught, and how to treat and prevent them. She couldn't resist shooting Arc a little smug smirk when he mentioned that getting too dirty or overworked led to getting sick, like a "Haha, I told you!" look. Maybe now the filthy boy would grumble less about taking baths and grooming his fuzzy, messy hair. "What plants are those, Daddy? What do they do?" she asked, pointing with a tiny paw at the herbs. "Is Arc contagious? Is he gonna die? Can I get sick from him too?"
As she asked the last question, she peered over at her sniffling brother. They hadn't gotten to cuddle and she'd been afraid to be near him to care for him in case she got sick too. Maybe after he took his medicine, that could change. She wanted to help her poor suffering brother.
