WHAT’S UP DANGER The trek northwards was miserable, with his leg giving him such immense pain. A regular dose of a mild sedative kept him from getting too worked up about it, and he'd been relatively good about keeping a paste of chewed marigold smeared across the majority of it. He'd been lucky to happen upon some horsetail at one point, but that had been a few days back. The binding of it had helped him get this far, but the mash he'd smothered the bloody gash with had been long since lost. He chewed absently at the wad of meadowsweet, ignoring the awful taste in favour of the ease in his pain. The titan had taken little time to rest, favouring movement and activity to keep his mind from wallowing in his grief. However, the unfortunate side effect of this was that his wound was steadily weeping blood down his leg. The sand underfoot was pleasantly warm, and the sun beat upon his spine. He sighed, haunches dropping onto the shimmering sand. Perhaps he'd take a moment to admire the view, and let the bleeding ease. Better yet, perhaps a dip in the ocean would cleanse any infection from the open wound. Wading into the cool sea was heaven on his aching paws and overheated form. The bite of salt into an open wound, on the other hand, was enough to draw a lengthy hiss of breath through his gritted teeth. A string of profanity escaped his clenched jaws, just loud enough that it was likely to carry for only a few feet. No one was around to hear him cursing the spirits and their mothers, thus he could get away with it. The marigold he'd applied drifted away in the water, followed by a steadily growing cloud of red that spread out from around his right forelimb. He dropped his ass into the water, determined to sit there and take it. It might even hurt worse than when the coyote had originally taken a chunk out of him. Somewhere in his mind, the celestial goliath could hear his mother scolding him for letting the beast take a chunk out of his hide. "speech"

The wanderer still had an itch for travelling, and well she spent most of her time in pack lands she did still occasionally make the journey out. The snow clung in interesting patterns to the land, and she found her toes were constantly cold. Winter had never been her favourite month, and she longed for Spring, the season of growing things. She hadn't intended to go quite so far as the bifrost, and hadn’t told Branch she would be gone this long. She had simply started out, and hadn’t stopped. She remembered how Auster experienced milder winters and longed for the end of snow, if just for a moment. She hadn’t expected the colourful wolf, sitting on his ass in a shallow spot of the ocean floor. She glanced at him speculative, knowing it would take a lot to get her anywhere near the ocean in the middle of winter. She had been determined to keep a wide berth over this wolf, who may or may not have a screw loose, when her changing angle saw the seeping red that enveloped the water beside him. She came to an instant halt, her attention falling onto the man as she puzzled over him. Well she understood cleaning a wound, he was just.. Sitting there. She marched forward, her expression serious. She could never walk past someone caring for the wounds in the wrong way. “Out of the water” "speech"

WHAT’S UP DANGER A few small fish had darted through the water as the blood filtered outward, zipping through the crystalline water to nibble at the dead flesh around the wound. His mother had once told him that when dealing with serious infections or possible necrotic tissue, a pond full of minnows might be useful. However, he was fairly certain he needed that flesh right now. Tracking those little silver bodies as they cut through the water distracted him from the burn of salt water against his wound. He should probably get out of here, this wasn't as helpful as he had hoped. Now that the sludge of old herbs had been washed away, it was probably well enough disinfected. “Out of the water” A decidedly feminine voice commanded from behind him. The titan swung his great head about to fix her with a dull, disinterested stare. She was a tiny thing, likely to barely reach his elbows. He didn't bother to fix his expression into something more welcoming. After all, she had just tried to boss him around. "Beg your pardon?" he drawled, though he had no interest in hearing her repeat her demand. He did, however, rise to his paws and turn slowly about to face her. Towering over this delicate fae even at this distance, the tusked goliath stared coolly at her. He made no move to exit the water, which was now streaming from his belly fur in rivulets, and dripping down his limbs. "Who are you to command me?" he questioned next, his rumbling baritones edging upon a growl. No one told an Aeris what to do. "speech"

The young wolf, soft spoken and quite in all other matters of life, could be a spitfire when she saw matters of healing handled incorrectly. The Titan before her seemed surprised at her outburst, and indeed perhaps she could have handled things more gently, but.. Who in their right mind just sat in the ocean, bleeding? She could see that it had already attracted some little fish that nibbled at the edges. He was lucky he hadn’t attracted anything worse, and besides, this was no way to care for a wound.

She tsked under her breath as he stood, and demanded to know who she was, that she dared give him a command. “I am a healer, and you, Sir, are injured. what did you think sitting there was going to do. You suppose to clean it out with salt water, not sit in it, kicking up sand into the wound, and I see no other herbs prepared.” she glanced about herself with exaggerated care, but saw nothing of use to him. With a hunched over on the sand and began to pick through her medicine bag, a faded blue thing that loped about her neck and hung down near her right forelimb.

She showed no fear of him, despite her tiny size and brisk words. The truth was, if he wanted to hurt her there was nothing she could do. Raised all her life as a healer, with the vow to ‘do no harm’ still ringing in her ears. He could either let her heal her, send her on her way (good luck) or harm her. But even that prospect, well.. The healer could not turn away from any wolf. She raised to heal and to help, without prejudice.

"Speech"

DON'T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME The petite femme seemed completely unperturbed, and continued on her tirade without care for her own personal safety. “I am a healer, and you, Sir, are injured. what did you think sitting there was going to do. You suppose to clean it out with salt water, not sit in it, kicking up sand into the wound, and I see no other herbs prepared.” without a moment to consider the possibility of her own untimely demise for berating a stranger, she dropped her ass in the sand and started to rifle through a bag at her side with her snout. Somewhat irked by the accusations made towards his own skillset, the male growled deep in his chest. Lip curled in irritation, he stepped out of the water and onto the warm sand. Broad paws splayed across the unstable substrate, and he shook the water from his pelt. Where he stood, little more than a foot to her right, she was likely to be assaulted by the chilly spray. Good. "We aren't all fortunate to be able to carry our stores with us," he growled, levelling her with a cold stare. She was quite lucky to have been able to collect both the materials, and the equipment within which to carry it. He hadn't been here long enough, nor would anything have survived the trip to these lands. "I make do with whatever I find." The dead skin that had been nibbled away by the little fish had revealed pink flesh, clean and healthy. Blood began to weep from the wound again, a slow buildup of crimson around the edges that began to flood inwards. "Could I trouble you for some horsetail or cobwebs, perchance?" he questioned in a tauntingly aloof tone, brow cocked as he glanced in her direction. He held the wounded limb aloft, in an effort to stem the flow. "If you name the pack whose scent so readily clings to you, I can return the favour once I have the materials." he assured her. There were no free rides back home, and there were always strings attached. Why should it be different here? "speech"

She jumped a little as his shadow fell over her, his heavy body shaking free the water, coating her, and she yelped as she scrambled to toss the lid over her bag, least her precious herbs suffer from the wet ocean spray. She glared up at him, only to notice, for the first time, the walrus husks that protruded from his muscle, and curved upwards towards his face.
Huh, she wasn’t expecting that.

Determined not to be perturbed by the giant, tusked man, she re-opened her bag, rummaging through it as she thought. “Well, I just don’t like to see a wound untreated” she explained, in vague explanation for her prickliness. “I’ll do you one better, i’ll lend you the herbs you need - and the favour you return, is letting me examine the wound and prescribe them, your welcome to change what I suggest if you think you have a better alternative, and i’ll see if I have those herbs. Do we have a deal?” she asked the giant.

The tiny fae was fighting a scowl from her features, where he would have made no move to hide disdain. These placid creatures, they were an interesting bunch. Her shriek of surprise as he unleashed the torrent of water upon her was worth the strain on his injured leg, though in hindsight he could all but hear his mother bearing down on him over the possibility of damaging all of the woman's herbs. Were the old titan still alive, she would have torn his ears to shreds for that. Regardless, the small femme returned to her search through her bag. As she searched, she spoke again. "Well, I just don’t like to see a wound untreated" she admonished. “I’ll do you one better, i’ll lend you the herbs you need - and the favour you return, is letting me examine the wound and prescribe them, your welcome to change what I suggest if you think you have a better alternative, and i’ll see if I have those herbs. Do we have a deal?” there wasn't much room for argument in her tone, but the titan rarely paid attention to the wants of others. He thought on it for a moment, rooted where he stood. Amethyst gaze drifted upwards, lips a tight line of consideration. Perhaps he was toying with her a little too much, but it was all too easy. He hummed thoughtfully, tail sweeping lazily across his hocks. On one hand, the herbs would be useful, and he ought not to turn down assistance. On the other hand, she hadn't been too nice. Did he want to bother with that prickly attitude? After a few seconds, he let his attention return to her decidedly unimpressed features. He heaved a sigh. "Fine." he grunted, dropping his hindquarters heavily into the sand. He arranged himself so his injured forelimb was extended a little, paw planted in the sand for ease of access. She was small enough that she could easily prop her paws on that same leg to examine it further. "I'm at your disposal, Љубовта" he purred with a wolfish grin, pinning his gaze upon her. ooc. I'm so sorry for the wait, life is a dumpster fire "dripping with sarcasm"

Art by risketch