Lets Play Doctor

Satira didn't often make it down to Auster, as the southern continent was quite a hike away from Elysium where her family was staying temporarily. But as their time with the pack grew shorter and the nomadic family was preparing to pack up and hit the trail once more, the little wolf-dog became more and more adventurous and independent, striking out on her own on extended herb gathering trips to keep her family stocked on important medicines they could use or barter with on their journeys. Plus it had the added benefit of giving her some space away from the overbearing dread she felt being around her mother and uncle and half-sister. Tira had headed down to Auster to make use of the massive gardens she'd seen when her family had come to the Hallows for her aunt's wedding. The gardens were lush with flourishing herbs and plants, and after gathering so many that her little leather herb satchel was barely able to close properly, the little canine was headed back home with her stash.

Slipping between the lands of the Hallows and Fenmyre, Satira paused to collect a healthy batch of fresh cannabis along the edges of the Wildberry Grove, using her sharp feline claws to surgically cut the stems of the bright, shiny leaves from the plants and stash them in her bag. With her harvest complete, Tira maneuvered her way up to the shore, intent to follow the coastline back to the Bifröst and then head north again. At least, that had been her plan until she saw the spotty splotches of dark red staining the golden sands. Her eyes narrowed with concern, tiny nose taking a tentative sniff of the puddles. The coppery stench of blood was unmistakable, even beneath the salty air of the sea. Someone was injured. Another careful sampling of the air caught a familiar scent in her nares, and when she recognized it, her blood ran cold.

"Cináed..." Satira gazed down the stretch of beach that led away from the Bifröst. If Ciná was hurt, then he likely needed help. Tira didn't pause, not even to consider how awkward it might be seeing him again after she'd snuck away from him after they'd drunkenly slept together at the wedding. She had a duty as a healer, a lesson her father had passed on to her early on in her life, and if he was hurt then she needed to help him. Tiny paws took off sprinting down the sand, kicking it up as she ran. Ciná hadn't gone far, his scent getting stronger by the second. She found him slumped against a tall aspen tree just between the beach and the woods, right near the border to another pack. He reeked of blood and there was little doubt that he was indeed injured.

"Ciná!" shouted Satira as she ran up to him, her pace slowing to an urgent trot when she drew near. She was about to ask if he was all right when keen blue eyes spied his mangled tail. "Oh gods, your tail...! Ciná, what happened?!" Tira didn't wait for Ciná to explain how he had gotten hurt or give her consent to treat him before she was slipping her bag off and beginning to rifle through her plethora of herbs for her bandage roll she'd nicked from Elysium following her healing lesson. Pulling it out with a triumphant cheer, Tira also dug out some thick moss and lichen she'd fashioned into a makeshift sponge, coming closer to inspect the damage done to his tail while she used the "sponge" to gently soak up the excess blood from around the wound.

"Satira"