The Usual (Post-Raid Healing)

When the call from the night watch had gone out about the raid, Syanna bolted from her oversized bed to go sprinting down the stairs bound for the pharmacy and infirmary. If they were really under attack, there would be violence, and where there was violence, there would be injuries to heal. The Hallows still hadn't fully resupplied their stores from trying to tend to all the sick wolves during the cataclysm, but they had enough to treat physical injuries at the least. She threw open the door to the pharmacy stores and began scrambling about gathering up as many different types of painkillers, antiseptic ointments, and suture kits as she could hold. A bundle of cloths for bandages joined her assortment on the way out the door.

Iolaire had already begun setting up a little triage center in the infirmary for quick inspections of wounds and diagnoses. Syanna set out the assortment of herbs on a long wooden table, letting the aged wolf begin bundling kits together and showing the others how to do the same. She then went over to the large cabinet beside the door and began pulling out an assortment of medical tools and instruments. Scalpels, needles, braces, anything they may need for any sort of injury. She hoped none of their fighters got hurt enough to need any of them, but in a situation where every second counts and could be the difference between life and death, she wanted everything ready and accessible.

From outside, the howls and snarls of fighting wolves could be heard, deadly and violent. Syanna's ears slicked back to her head and she hurried over to one of the tall windows, peering out into the empty nighttime garden. They hadn't gotten in; that was good. "Look alive, everyone. The fighting's started," she called out and returned to gathering supplies for the medics.

"Syanna Alluráin"