The young male wandered aimlessly, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He was much to distracted to be worried where he was going. The spirits were calm today and it was almost nice to listen to them when they were calm. It was hard to decipher one voice from another, but the words he could make out seemed relaxed. They spoke about keeping alert rather than calling him useless. He didn't like to listen to them when they were in a bad mood.

He got snapped out of his trance when he bumped into a rock. It was large and had ridged points. It would be easy to climb but he had to be careful of its sharp edges. He shook his head, as though trying to shake the voices out of his head, then started his ascent. He dug his claws into the rock's cracks and hoisted himself up. It didn't take long or much effort to get him to the top. His bright green eyes scanned the surroundings.

The sun was still high in the air, the clouds few and far between. Multiple other climbable rock towers were scattered across the plains, along with small weeds and bushes. It was quite a peaceful sight. However, he had to keep on moving. He had no reason to stay. The voices get anxious when he stays in one spot, and so does he.

It wouldn't be too hard to get down, he just had to concentrate on where he was putting his feet. Just as he was about to put a foot near the edge of the rock, a spirit's voice piped up. Look behind you! He jumped, twisting his body around to look to his rear. In doing this, he lost is footing.

His foot slipped on some loose pebbles and scraped across the rock's sharp edge. He fell forward, tumbling down the large rock before hitting the ground with a soft thud. A sharp pain throbbed on his wrist, a sudden warmth seeping into his fur and coating his skin. Pnuma lifted his head to look down to his leg to see a gash, blood flowing onto the grass beneath him. It was small, but if not taken care of, it could easily become infected.

Circe watched the progress of the young mortal male with the slight interest one might give a songbird in flight. She was stretched out atop a nearby outcropping and, like her reptilian companion at her side, soaking up the warm summer sun. Her belly was full and this, combined with the warm rays beating down on her, made her reluctant to rise. Content to ignore the mortal, Circe's head dropped to her paws and her eyes closed. Seconds later a clatter startled her. Out of instinct she was on her paws in a flash. Her gaze shot 'round and then fixed on the fallen mortal with hawkish intensity. When he had been well and oblivious to her presence she'd been content to let him slip by without a word, but now that he might be injured, now that he might need her help (and be more receptive to her ideas), well, how could she resist? For a moment her expression took on a hard, predatory edge but then she buried her true feelings under a mask of concern. "Oh, dear!" she fretted as she clambered down the outcropping. In a few shorts bounds she was at the fallen stranger's side and bending down beside him. Her expression was equal parts horror and concern. "Oh, I saw the whole thing, you poor lamb! Let me get a look at your leg, I'm a healer." Her movements and manner, while gentle and concerned, left no room for disagreement and she examined his leg without thought for his personal space or desire to be treated. "How's that ankle? Can you move it?" Oh, how she hoped it was broken. If that were the case he was as good as hers. "Circe" "Gwydion"

A voice sounded behind him and at first, he didn't realize it was a material one, assuming it was yet another spirit. The voices had quickly switched from relatively calm to fearful and angry. He closed his eyes tightly, the spirits ridiculing him for his stupidity. He shook his head again to try and get them to stop and when he opened his eyes again another canine was in front of him.

He tensed up, his fur rising in surprise and anxiety. Being wounded in front of a much larger, stronger wolf was never a good thing, especially if they're a stranger. However, the she-wolfs face was contorted into a face of equal fear and concern which was the only thing keeping him from running. Well, that and the throbbing pain in his wrist. He had torn the skin and used it to cushion his fall, despite the thin, fragile bones that resided inside it. It happened too quick to realize it would be a mistake.

The she-wolf offered to look at his leg and paired with her gentle voice, he didn't feel the need to hide it. He offered his paw to her, but slowly. The burning feeling in his joint prevented him moving it to make it easier for her to examine. He would allow her to do as she needed to make sure he was alright but would shy away if she made any attempt to touch it. He could see it had a suspicious bump and it was already starting to swell. Even with his limited knowledge of wounds and fractures, he knew the wound was not just a simple cut.

Her question made him swallow nervously. It was already stinging and throbbing tortuously and he just knew moving it would make it worse. He took a deep breath and tried anyway. Pain immediately shot up his front leg and he yelped a high pitched cry.

His obvious show of weakness caused anxiety to creep back into his mind. He brought his injured leg close to his body and leaned away from the female. The spirits were quick to comment on his foolishness. "I-I'm fine. I can move it and I'm fine." He murmured, more to himself than the female. He offered her a reassuring smile, or at least as reassuring he could be in pain.

While she was assessing his injuries Circe was also trying to get a feel for the little male's personality. To create the best lure she needed to know who she was dealing with. It was for that reason that his every move, every expression was casually assessed. His nervous demeanor coupled with his eventual obedience was promising. If she were lucky, perhaps this would be a fruitful endeavor. Malleus had his pack and Archon his band. Now Circe needed something of her own. She didn't crave packmates or parishioners, no, she wanted followers. Devotees. A crowd of adoring fanatics to give her the love and adoration she deserved. Was that too much to ask for? Circe tutted at his cry of pain, her face scrunching up in sympathy. Of course she didn't believe him when he said he was fine. Any fool could see he wasn't. "Are you sure? If it's broken it really needs to be looked at and taken care of, otherwise it will just keep hurting." No one liked being in pain so she was playing on the hope that he'd want it to end as soon as possible. "You know, I have some supplies up there," she said as she motioned towards the outcropping. "At least let me take care of that cut. I'd hate for it to get infected. I think I help with the pain too." "Circe" "Gwydion"

The female's offer was extremely tempting. He had never been in such pain and he knew he would have to let the she-wolf help him if he wanted any chance of ending it quickly. He didn't like the feeling of being so reliant on a stranger, and neither did the spirits, but, she did say she had supplies not far from here. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bother for her.

He was hesitant in his movements, listening to the voices to see what they thought. His ears twitched, listening to something only he could hear and his eyes seemed to unfocus, now looking through the female rather than at. The spirits had regressed into their normal uselessness. They only insulted him or spoke negative nonsense. None of their words were directed at the female, so he took this as a sign they agreed to allow her to help them. After gathering such information, his eyes refocused on the she-wolf.

"Alright, as long as I'm not bothering you," he relented, rising into a sitting position. He was careful not to move any of the muscles in his injured leg, keeping it raised above the ground and static at his side. If it was broken, which even he could safely assume it was, moving it would not better the situation.

Oh! I'm Pnuma by the way. If you don't mind me asking, what's your name? He added, suddenly noticing he did not know the female's name. How rude of him not to mention his name sooner! He was about to take up this woman's valuable time and he didn't even know her name! How would he properly thank her for helping him without such important information?

Him, bothering her? Oh, he had no idea. His accident had made her day. If she played her cards right his little snafu might make more than just a single day. "Not at all, I'm just happy I can help." "Well, Pnuma, it's a pleasure to meet you although I wish we were meeting under better circumstances." A lie. She'd have happily ignored him and carried on napping had he not injured himself. "I'm Circe, Circe Abraxas," she said brightly before straightening and looking towards the outcropping. "And I'll be right back, okay?" --- No more than a minute later Circe was clamoring back down the outcropping with a rolled up hide clamped between her teeth. In it was various dried plants and other things she'd gathered since returning to Boreas. The system she'd developed, little bundles wrapped up in a bigger bundle, was unwieldy and she was eager to find something better, but until then, she was going to have to make due. "Alrighty," she said as she unrolled the bundle to exposed her collection. "Where to start..." Her eyes fixed on a fat roll of rabbit skin. "How about pain relief?" She unrolled the little bundle and sectioned off a small portion of the plant mixture within before nudging it towards Pnuma. "I mixed this myself - you won't feel a thing while I work on your leg. Just chew it really good before you swallow it." There were several plants in there that would do exactly as she said. Trillium, for example, was known for its analgesic properties, as was wintergreen. But the pinch of wolfsbane that was mixed in? That was a sedative. Combined with the trillium he'd be putty in no time and then her real work could begin. "Circe" "Gwydion"

He felt better knowing the she-wolf was not bothered by his dependence, naive to the fact that she, or any wolf, could have lied to him at that moment. Not that he was ignorant to the action of lying, considering he had done so not even a few seconds ago, but that he saw no reason for her to lie to him. He watched the she-wolf that he now knew as Circe leave towards the outcrop, waiting obediently for her quick return.

His ear's perked forward as she dropped the bundle, eyes widening in genuine curiosity as she unfurled the packages to reveal the dried leaves inside. Though he could not know which plant was which or name off their properties, he was interested in how they would dull his pain. Plants have always been a major interest of his but had never really learned of them as no one could teach him. The only way he could self-teach was to eat a plant and see what it would do. He was smart enough to understand this was a dangerous way or learning so he contented himself with just looking at them. Now he could really see them at play.

He did not hesitate to take the herbs into his mouth, chewing well as instructed before consuming them. The effects were not instant like he expected, but the effects were noticeable when they did start to kick in. No longer did the wound throb painfully, the burning sensation lifting. However, his head also began to feel light. His eyelids started to feel heavy and he slowly slunk back down to the ground. He did not anticipate sedative properties would be used and a mix of disappointment and anxiety swirled in his mind. The disappointment of him not getting to see how she would heal his leg. The anxiety of being so vulnerable in front of a stranger, no longer capable of self-defense if need be.

Him being so lightweight, the wolfsbane was not only enough to calm him but to also put him to sleep. He knew he could not fight the effects of the flower concoction, so he willingly fell into the comforting arms of slumber.

The plants subdued him with surprising swiftness. Circe eyed him as he all but melted into the rocky ground. While she'd expected him to go down she hadn't anticipated the speed or the totality of his sedation. Perhaps in the future she would have to take more care in dosing lighter individuals. At any rate, she wasn't disappointed with his unconscious state. While she'd been planning on talking her healing prowess up and reassuring him of his safety while under her care, this certainly made things easier. Now she could do what she wanted without the pretense of compassion. "My, you're quite the lightweight, aren't you?" she said brightly, testing the waters just in case his slumber wasn't as deep as she thought. "Well, don't you worry. I'll have you patched up in no time and you'll be right as rain." When Pnuma didn't stir, Circe got to work. She quickly cleaned the gash - her ministrations still a little rough as she continued to test him for awareness - and then applied a poultice topped with a small rectangle of rabbit skin and tied the whole thing on with grass twine. Circe stepped back to eye her handiwork. At first glance the lump at his wrist had looked like a break, but upon closer examination she'd determined it was just swelling, perhaps from striking a rock as he fell. But she wasn't about to tell him that. No, Circe had other ideas. "Alright, Pnuma," she said loudly in the hopes of rousing him (if he could be roused). "I've done what I can here, but it looks like your leg is broken and I'm going to need help fixing it. So we need to go back to my band, okay? If you're not okay with that, you need to tell me..." Of course she wasn't really giving him the option of leaving. IF he were to rouse and IF he were to insist on going his own way, she'd give him another dose and haul him to the band. He wasn't going to get away so easily. Hopefully he'd stay unconscious and she could just pick him up and be on her way. "Circe" "Gwydion"

Pnuma stayed blissfully unaware of the entire procedure, instead dreaming of chasing rabbits across the grasslands, the wind tugging playfully against his fur. The spirits were not present in this short time of rest, finally giving him some time alone from their constant presence. It was nice to have his mind relatively empty, to be able to concentrate fully on something that wasn't the voices in his head. He would sleep forever if he could, but a voice pulled him from the fields and back into reality. Back to the constant noise of the anxious spirits.

Pnuma had trouble keeping his eyes fully open, only half-lidded as he looked up at the female. He didn't register what she was saying first, his head too fuzzy to be taking in information, but he didn't need to. All he heard was 'broken' and 'my band', but that was all he needed to figure out what was happening. Fear swelled in his chest. His leg was broken! He didn't want to leave with this almost stranger into an unknown land, but he didn't have a choice. He knew close to nothing about broken limbs other than not to move them. If he wandered off, no doubt would the bones fuse wrong or something of a similar sort. It took him a long moment to reply, both the sedatives and the conflict going on inside his head delaying his answer.

"It's fine... I understand..." He mumbled, his voice both slurred and melancholy. His muscles strained in protest and he slowly got into a sitting position. He felt unstable and exhausted, similar to a drunk with too much alcohol. The anesthetic still had quite the hold on him, seemingly only worn off enough to give him consciousness and little motor skills.

Circe frowned in disappointment as Pnuma stirred. She'd been hoping he would remain unconscious until the journey was at least underway. If he'd stirred after he'd been slung across her back and after she was well on her way to the band, then he'd have had little choice but to go along with it. She didn't have to worry about rejection, though. Pnuma, his voice was heavy with the weight of the sedatives, consented. His slurred words caused Circe to brighten visibly. Circe took a step back and eyeballed Pnuma from nose to rump. He was no cousin Seth, but he wasn't some great big hulking behemoth, either. She was confident she could carry him. "Alright, Pnuma," she touched his crown gently so he'd stir enough to listen. "You're in no condition to be walking right now so I'm going to carry you." She knelt down beside him and wormed her paws under his back. "On the count of three I'm going to pick you up, alright? Three..." Circe began to worm her way under his back. When her head was under his ribs, she said, "Two..." She continued to wiggle until his middle was across the middle of her back. "One." The whole process from start to finish was over in a matter of seconds. For several beats Circe stood still to get a feel for his weight. Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she then grinned. Oh, this was gonna be good. -exit Circe- "Circe" "Gwydion"

Pnuma didn't seem to react much to the woman's touch, only slowly blinking in acknowledgment. Still, he did not fully absorb Circe's words, only catching enough to get that she was going to carry him. He liked that idea. He didn't want to walk, he was much too tired to want to move. He stood on his wobbly legs to make it easier for the woman to shimmy underneath him.

When she stood, his feet were lifted off the ground and he hung limply from her back. He did his best to stabilize himself into a perfect balance to ensure he didn't slide off then stayed static in his position. In his sedated state, being carried was a comforting experience. The woman's soft fur beneath him acting as a pillow, the sun's warmth hitting his back, the sedatives work on his mind, only those with the strongest willpower would be able to refrain from falling back asleep. Pnuma was not one of them.

The second Pnuma's heavy lids fell, he was back to sleep. Dreaming the time away as he was carried away from the territory.

-exit Pnuma-