Let it Do its Wonders
When the beach finally came into view the male sighed in relief and picked up his pace. Well, that was a mistake. In his haste, the male had failed to notice a crack between the stones and his front right paw plunged straight in, catching roughly on the sides. Barking out, he struggled to keep on his feet. Pausing for a moment, he stared wide-eyed at the hole. Just his luck. Pulling his leg out gently, he winced at the large gash down his front foreleg. Grumbling, Sìleas continued towards the beach, at a decidedly slower pace than before. The soft sand was life heaven on his paws and if he didn't had blood matting his fur he would've grinned in relief. Limping over to the waves, he stood in the surf, letting the sea-water do its magic.
The scent of blood was something that always attracted her, in an entirely altruistic way. Ara had been a healer nearly since the day she was born, always driven by the desire to help rather than to harm, a scholar since she learned her first word. It was difficult - no, impossible - to ignore someone that was suffering. The urge to help was simply too strong. Always wary, she trailed after the scent, pleased to feel the warm sand beneath the pads of her paws as she moved along the shoreline. |
Deafened by the road of the surf, it was only when she called out to him that Sìleas noticed her presence. Her head was lowered and her voice timid, polite; even though there was a delay in his mind as he translated her words to his own, he could tell that.
"Excuse me. Are you hurt?" Her voice was uncertain, so Sìleas looked at her and smiled amicably.
"I am, miss. I have a, uh, gearr? A, uh, cut?" Sìleas wasn't sure what the correct word for the gash on his leg was so, he held it up for her to see.
Yet she could not. There was certainly the possibility that something troublesome was happening, and she might cause herself harm by going to investigate. But there was also the possibility that somebody was out there needing help. What if no one else could help them? What if somebody died because she was too frightened to check on them? Taking a deep breath and swallowing her fear, Bright forced herself to go toward the scent of blood. Her heart began to pound in her chest as anxiety flooded her, her breathing coming fast. She had to keep going.
At last she found them. Nothing seemed to be terribly wrong, there wasn't a fight happening, there was no violence. Relief flooded over her. She was glad she had come. Still, it was obvious that there was an injury in need of tending, and she wondered which one of the two, and where on their body. So Bright approached, but not too closely. "Can I... help?" she asked, trying to speak up so that her voice would carry over the sound of the waves, "I know a little about herbs." Her approach was a bit lame, lacking in conviction, but she wanted to be of assistance if she could.
At the very least, if he didn't want her to help tend to him, she could offer some advice to him. Personally, she didn't know him enough to lose sleep over it, if he rejected her - but she had to offer some help at all. She wouldn't feel satisfied with herself without doing so. Her jaws parted slightly, only to close again as she examined him and he spoke. His accent was unfamiliar to her, his words simply. It seemed he was not from here - at least, he didn't speak her language perfectly. Her brows pulled together tightly as he stuck his leg out for her to see. |
"I can help," Sileas smiled gratefully. Both for the simplicity of her words and the assistance she was offering. Looking down at the wound for a moment, his brows furrowed slightly. Already the wound felt better, a little cleaner and if it were not for the harsh bite of the seawater, the pain would have only been a dull throb. He was very thankful for the help, and he wanted to make sure this woman knew it.
Before he could reply to the woman, another female approached, albeit hesitantly. The newcomers coat was darker than the other woman's, a silver colour mostly. Sileas felt himself shrink slightly under the additional gaze. He wasn't a fan of having attention directed on him, especially two strangers in an unfamiliar place. But, Sil was in the situation now and everything seemed okay, so he'd just have to deal with it.
The lighter-furred woman greeted the other with a nod and explained the situation. He kept up with their speech as best as he could, but it took him a moment as he caught up that the last part could have been directed at himself.
With a hesitant smile to the newcomer he spoke, trying to keep his accent in check.
" Thank you, miss, and... new miss. I would be very thankful for your helps. My name is Sileas. I'm a healer also, but this is a..." Sileas hated it when he couldn't remember words. "Tricky place for myself to heal. So I thank you both. he finished, dipping his head to them both.
Now she would turn to the man as he began to speak - he looked a little unnerved, having two strangers approach him while he was injured, and for a moment Bright felt badly. Perhaps she should have let Ara deal with it on her own. After all, she was not a full fledged healer, and at best she could only be an assistant. But Sileas, as he introduced himself, seemed willing to take the help, although he claimed he was also a healer. It seemed the wound was in a place too awkward for him to tend to properly. "Hello Sileas," she said very softly, her head held low and ears folded back, "My name is Bright Moon; I am in training to become a healer." Now her silver eyes turned back to Ara. "If there's anything you need immediately, I can retrieve it for you," she offered, wondering if the woman had had a chance to assess the wound yet - would they need something to stop the bleeding? What would they use to prevent infection? Whatever it was, she was more than ready to take off in search of the right materials.
Though he seemed rather grateful, she knew it must be a bit overwhelming for the young man to have two older women fussing over him. He seemed glad for the help, and thankful, but a bit taken aback at the same time. The wound was not going to kill him, or even maim him permanently - it might leave a scar, but in a few days he would likely hardly notice anything wrong at all. |