That old book smell
Emile knew that no matter his current relationship with his father the man had at least been right about one thing, he hadn't been pulling his own weight... And though he was hardly ready to present himself to the public yet he figured reaching out to Gwynevere couldn't hurt. Even if he'd also been doing his best to avoid that litter of pups... They reminded him of Bowen, of their mother, two more wolves who he'd never gotten to say goodbye too. At least that was a pain they'd share in common. The young man had started his search at the girl's room though some part of him suspected that since he'd yet to properly shed the habit of sleeping in that she'd be elsewhere. Though there was a scent trail leading away from her door it was stale enough it could have easily been a day or two old. Emile frowned, lifting a paw to rap his claws on the door. "Hhhhhello?" He called trying not to flinch as he heard himself. "Gwynevere? My my my my dad suggested I see ifffff you neeeeeeeded any h...help." His curiosity was a little aggressive today, slightly pushing open her door to peek in. Manners were not really considered. "Speech" |
Art by EffraSorbus |
Art by Sigath
Warning: Emile's threads may be potentially triggering as he is suffering from extreme mental duress, his threads may include themes of suicidal ideation and physical and emotional self harm. Please take care of yourself and thread at your own discretion.
Emile has a ring of jagged scars around his right eye from the events of the ooze, most of his art do not show this. His profile has been updated to reflect this.
Gwynevere hadn't been back to her room since the day her mother and Kane returned with Rudyard, staying by him day and night until she was sure he was at least physically stable. The fact that he seemed to be unwavering in his coma worried her deeply, but as Kane and Syanna continued to remind her that all they could do was wait and maintain him in this state she tried to take it to heart that there was nothing more she could do. She entrusted Rudyard to the other healers for at least a few minutes as she pulled herself away to go up to her room, her eyes hurting from a lack of sleep. She had snuck small naps here and there in one of the infirmary beds, but she hadn't had a proper night sleep since before this began and she wasn't sure that she would until he was awake. It reminded her of the days that followed her mother's attack and how she had worked herself to the bone to get her out of that critical state, but at least this time she had help.
She wasn't going to go sleep just yet though. Even though she had moved almost all of her raw herbs and supplies to the pharmacy now that she had Syanna to help her keep it organized, there were still a few salves and prepared remedies that she still kept on the shelves in her library. They were doing her no good here and decided she should bring them down to the pharmacy as well so they were more easily accessible from the infirmary if she needed them. As she turned the corner into the corridor that led to her room though she heard a voice calling for her and she lifted her eyes with surprise from the floor to see Emile pushing open the door to her room. "Over here," she called back to him as she walked down the hall toward him. She had luckily come in time to hear his words about offering to help and she gave him a small nod. "I do have a small thing you could help with actually," she told him as she slipped past to walk into the small library.
She led him over to a shelf that was lined with maybe a dozen various pots and jars filled with herbal remedies and gave a small nod of her head toward them. "I want to take these down to the pharmacy to add them to the pack stores if you could help me carry them." She went over to some of her miscellaneous supplies and pulled out a couple fairly wide pieces of fabric, laying them out in front of the shelf. "I figured we can place them in these and wrap them in a sling to carry down." Straight forward enough and with any luck they wouldn't have to make too trips.
Emile wasn't an easily startled wolf, at least he certainly didn't think he was, but the boy practically jumped out of his skin when the voice sounded behind him, a stammered apology starting to rise from his lips but Gwyn slipped past him, confirming she could in fact use his help so the boy's jaw snapped shut with an audible sound, any further excuse not to have to speak more would be gladly taken. White dusted paws would follow her into the library, green gaze roving curiously over the room, though his attention would snap back to the task at hand as the young woman stopped, and indicated the jars and pots, watching as she went to fetch a few large swathes of fabric. He nodded as she indicated the plan. Emile moved with a sort of quiet gentleness, reaching for a jar and cradling it carefully against his chest, pressing it to his body with a forepaw as he slowly lowered it onto an open piece of fabric, gently positioning it. He would move like that for a bit, carefully picking and choosing jars and pots so they'd lay nicely next to each other and arranging them so they wouldn't bump against each other too bad when he eventually tied up his little bindle like package without being too heavy. Each movement was deliberate, unspeaking but his process clearly informed and thought out. "Speech" |
Art by EffraSorbus |
Art by Sigath
Warning: Emile's threads may be potentially triggering as he is suffering from extreme mental duress, his threads may include themes of suicidal ideation and physical and emotional self harm. Please take care of yourself and thread at your own discretion.
Emile has a ring of jagged scars around his right eye from the events of the ooze, most of his art do not show this. His profile has been updated to reflect this.
Gwynevere had never really spent time with Emile, but with such a tedious task at hand she was just glad to have some extra paws to help. The Adravendi boy got to work as soon as she was finished explaining what needed to happen. He was even more careful than she was, but perhaps that was because she had spent more time handling these pots and jars than he had so she knew they were actually more durable than they seemed. She was more than content with working in silence so she got to work as well, picking up the jars and containers one at a time and lowering them to sit in the middle of the cloth closest to her until she felt like it couldn't hold any more without being too full. She experimentally folded the corners up around the jars and lifted the bundle to see how it would do.
The jars clanked together slightly as they shifted and moved within the cloth sling, but once they settled in against each other they seemed to be pretty stable in there. She gave a pleased wag of her tail and looked to Emile to wait for him to do the same before leading the way out of her room. Getting their bundles down the stairs turned out to be a bit of a challenge, but holding her head up high and moving carefully down each step to keep from tripping because of not being able to see her own feet made it possible. She walked through the short corridor and turned into the pharmacy that she had previously propped open since she knew she would be carrying these cumbersome bundles when she came back down stairs. She sat down her sling of jars with a satisfied sigh, flicking open the cloth to reveal the containers that had made the trip safely. "This is a big help, thank you, Emile," she mentioned, giving him a little smile.
Emile followed Gwynevere's lead, both in tying up his bundle and then out of her room and towards the pharmacy. He was somehow even slower going down the stairs, some part of him sure that even if the young woman could do it that he'd mess it up somehow, and so his going was slow, head tipped back to copy her own strategy. He breathed a sigh of relief, around his bundle, when his paws were once more on solid ground and trotted to catch up with Gwyn. He gently placed his precious bundle down next to her own. She thanked him and he nodded shyly, his gaze dropping as he spoke softly: "Wwwwwas there more?" Both in terms of things she wanted brought down or in terms of other things he could do to help. "Speech" |
Art by EffraSorbus |
Art by Sigath
Warning: Emile's threads may be potentially triggering as he is suffering from extreme mental duress, his threads may include themes of suicidal ideation and physical and emotional self harm. Please take care of yourself and thread at your own discretion.
Emile has a ring of jagged scars around his right eye from the events of the ooze, most of his art do not show this. His profile has been updated to reflect this.
Gwynevere gave a thoughtful hum when Emile asked if there was more and she looked at the two bundles of poultices and concoctions that they had brought down. "Well, there's only a few jars left upstairs, but I can handle bringing those down. This was the bulk of them." She appreciated him wanting to help though so she certainly didn't want to discourage that and it was a good lesson in making herself let others help her rather than overworking herself. It was something she had done ever since she was a pup and it was a hard habit to break - especially now after her mother's death and feeling as if she needed to work even harder to help support her family. She was the only healer among her siblings and she felt that pressure to always be ready to treat them if anything happened.
"If you wanted to help me get these on the shelves that would he really helpful," she said as she started untying the bundle in front of her. She nodded to a couple empty shelves in front of them and said, "I cleared these off to store all the preprepared poultices so hopefully they'll all fit here. If not maybe we can move some other stuff around or maybe I'll just keep some in the infirmary instead. It just doesn't make sense to keep them in my room since I'm not treating anyone in there usually." She started carefully picking each one up and placing them on the shelf, the task slightly tedious but one that needed to get done one way or another.