It's time

She didn’t reply. Instead, she picked through the bags contents, and he was amused to see her interest in each item. She was like a magpie with a shiny rock. If he ever needed to distract her, he would just need to hand her a bag full of totally random crap. It was like a trap, she would have to sit there and look through it all. His lips twitched at the image, which was a good distraction from the needle and sinew she had already picked up and started to thread. She knew Halo’s supplies were good, she was the lead healer for a reason. So long as she managed to avoid stabbing herself, and then him, he should be fine. Right?

He grunted as she stuck the needle into the wound. His claws extracted and dug into the earth at their feet. But he didn’t otherwise move, and kept his breath steady. “Were you hoping it would be otherwise?” he asked her dryly as she made her stitches. From this angle, it was hard to keep an eye on her. He was forced to use a lot of trust that she wasn’t about to turn on him.

“There goes my plans to dance a jig.” He sighed at her orders. He didn’t bother rebuking her for ordering him around. She was acting as the role of a healer now, and he had been raised all his life to obey a healer's orders. They sat there in relative silence, she asked no questions, and he volunteered no answers. Her work was slower then Halo’s, but then she’d admitted to being no healer.

“You're a useful wolf to keep around, Ignita.” He told her when she was at last finished her work. At her question, he thought of the long minutes that had passed by on her belly stitching. He shuddered. “A bandage will do fine, and then grab whatever you can’t do without. We're moving.” He told her grimly.


"Basilisk Fatalis"