TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"

ooc// takes place around the time of the pack meeting, not long after the challenge

You could say, looking upon the tangled heap of spotted fur, ”He really had it coming to him.” And to be fair, you wouldn’t be wrong in the least. Macabre’s predicament at his mother’s own pack challenge was his burden to bear - he committed his sins, he paid the price. Quite heavily, depending on who you talked to - perhaps getting one’s eye near-gouged out, a broken femur, and the nastiest of infections setting deep into his bloodstream and his lungs was maybe a tad too steep.

But again, perspectives.

The events of the challenge were a blur; Macabre barely remembered what happened after he’d lunged at the shortshit who’d been scarred by his brother. The little fiend sliced his eye like a hit knife through butter, and the adrenaline, the sheer euphoria of his reckless actions fueled such a manic spurt that he’d barely recalled the white-hot snapping of his leg by the moldy wolf of the Armada. He’d crawled back to his siblings in a haze, and soon after everything faded to black. It was dark for a long time - so long he wondered if maybe he had bled out and died on the battlefield. Maybe his family, maybe even his own brother had abandoned him, Ghoul, his other half - one of the most important blood-related wolves in his life. No, he wouldn’t. They were brothers forever, no matter what he did, he could always count on the rosy-pelted boy to help him out. And he’d return the favor, every time. But it was so painful. Every fiber of his being, ripping itself to cellular shreds, every tissue, every splinter of bone. He felt it all even in the darkness of his blood-loss induced coma.

Finally, though, some semblance of life returned to his being. His crumpled body twitched in the shoulders. His once steady, deep, raspy breaths inhaled sharply. His eyelids fluttered - the right eye slowly opening as the left one, encrusted in swollen, inflamed flesh, painfully tore itself open through the yellowish discharge and dried blood that clogged his ocular membrane. When he awoke, his right eye saw bright light, squinting and blinking rapidly. Normal. The left one, clouded over and the cornea itself clawed through, saw nothing but a smoky haze. And it hurt. Everywhere. The boy could scarcely move a muscle, for if he did, it would feel as if white-hot needles were piercing into each individual strand of flesh in his body. Inhaling was an excruciating task, the pneumonia that settled into his lungs producing a raspy, guttural rattle with every heave of his chest. His left hind leg was bearing the insufferable, stabbing aches of each shift of his form he attempted, until he finally gave up and lay where he was, a thick, phlegmy cough rising into his maw. He wheezed, his form shifting rapidly between searing heat and shivering cold. Fever. No doubt the result of infections settling into the fracture on his leg and the scar on his face. A marred, destroyed soul. But he felt nothing. He was incapable of it. Pain, yes. But anger, bitterness, hatred? Not really.

Apathy, more like.

He groaned instinctively, a deathly rumble, mired with fluid that collected in his chest. He felt the thickness of bandages wrapped securely around his hind limb, though, and around his scars as well. Someone had clearly taken care of him. And..taken him somewhere, apparently. He had no idea of Insomnia. He had no recollection of his mother’s loss. He had no clue that Medusa was his pack leader.

Confusion caused a soft wrinkle in his brow as the cow-spotted boy weakly scanned the blurry surroundings. He was in a cave on a plain of some kind - unfamiliar. Rolling fields of flat earth, covered in tall grasses. A sunny sky high above his head, the light unwelcoming as he squinted.

Just what the hell had happened?

She had been working nonstop since she had won her challenge, making sure the injured members that were now under her car weren't going to die. Ghoul. Widow. Macabre. Two of them had managed to get themselves in a whole heap of trouble, and Widow had gone through a particularly straining and traumatic experience at such a young age. Granted, Medusa had been through the same experience, but hers had gone pretty smoothly and she had help from a kind healer from a pack she had never spoken to before. And of course, she had to keep them all in the same general area...or at least the ones that weren't doing well. So Ghoul, Macabre, and Widow, and her child, Morte, were housed in the Plains while the rest were restricted to a corner of the tar pits. Was it fair? She thought so. After all, she needed to keep an eye on the ones not doing well to make sure they weren't dying. And right now, it was time to check on the cow kid. He wasn't doing too well. He had been passed out when she and Nuru brought him to the pack lands after the challenge and put him in a den near her own so she could keep a good eye on him. She had splinted and bandaged his damaged leg and hadn't yet known what to do for his eye beyond dabbing at it with warm, wet moss. It took her a day or so to remember what she needed for infections, and it had finally come to her after a night of fitful rest. She had learned on her own through trial and error about different herbs prior to Habari, but healing had never really been her passion. It had been something to learn for her own survival. She approached the den with an assortment of supplies for the trio, and Macabre was first on her list of patients to visit. Glancing up, she noticed he seemed to be finally stirring, and she cocked her head before depositing the supplies on the ground and set about grabbing what she needed. "Cow-boy is awake. Medusa put a splint and bandage on your leg. It's broken. Macabre's eye is infected, and...coughing." She paused what she was doing to glance at him, hearing the raspiness in his throat before she returned to digging around in her supply pile again. She first pulled out a wad of moss and turned just in time to find Nox walking in with a roughly carved wooden bowl with water. Nox set it down, and Medusa dabbed the moss into it and set it to the side before pushing the bowl closer to him. "Macabre should drink some water before Medusa starts working." She would wait until he was more...coherent before she filled him in on what happened while he was passed out. "Medusa"

Macabre had expected to see somebody at some point - or maybe not, since he was still in a foggy haze and could barely see out of his normal eye, let alone the strangely painful one. He still had no idea he was permanently half-blind, believing it was just some nasty swelling. Surely it would go down in the next few days and he'd finally get rid of the annoying, stuffy ache that accompanied he entirety of the left side of his face. The nasty, squelching gash sliced jaggedly through his face was forced to twitch when he moved, the facial muscles torn and the entire wound not only festering, but excruciating in every way possible. If Macabre had a normal, sane range of emotions, he 'd likely be thinking it'd be better just to be dead. But he didn't. The yearling was a reckless, fiery sort, with no empathy to boot - his wounds were physically painful, but the mental comprehension of his situation didn't quite stick. A familiar voice, followed by a blurry shape, moved into his view. Macabre blinked some more, sending icepick-like pains down his skull. His mouth tightened, but he managed to lift his head more, finding it more difficult than usual. Like trying to prop himself up when his head was filled with rocks (which, given his recent actions, most would assume he did have a bunch of rocks instead of a real brain). He narrowed his seeing eye as blurs became more colors, and colors became a figure of a wolf; a woman with brown fur and a skeletal pattern hung over a thin frame. And she spoke, with a voice he'd heard before: "Cow-boy is awake. Medusa put a splint and bandage on your leg. It's broken. Macabre's eye is infected, and...coughing." Medusa. Wait, Medusa? Confusion settled over his head like a fog, and a fit of loud, retching coughs wracked his entire body. A dark green phlegm rose from his throat, coughed out promptly in a nasty puddle beneath him. He wheezed, barely able to catch his breath as waves of pain from the resulting coughs shattered his face, his eye, and his fractured leg. It was difficult to place where, specifically, it hurt, because it hurt everywhere. Steadily, his breathing evened out, but the uneasy rattling and whistling breaths were indicators of a serious pneumonia. His silver eye glanced up at the woman he recognized as the one who challenged his mother, and he tilted his head just slightly at the revelation of his situation again. Medusa won the challenge. It was the only possible explanation; if his mother had won he'd be in his den at the volcano now. But he was in a strange den, in a place far from anywhere he could recognize as home. "Oh. Okay," He half-whispered, attempting to glance over at the splint on his leg, but finding the maneuver of twisting his head was far too painful. With a pause to cough again, he rasped, "Where's my mother now?" It was not in a demanding manner, but simply a question in an attempt to catch up with what happened. He just..kinda needed to know what went on when he lost consciousness. "And d'you know where my siblings are? Ghoul, Widow, Ichor and Viscera?" He figured he'd needed to know that as well. Maybe they ran off, or were being held somewhere else. He fixed his seeing eye upon the skeletal woman, who had asked him to drink - and knowing he was at her mercy, but also not caring if he was, he did so and lapped up some water from the bowl. He was coherent enough, even if his words were barely audible. His head..he felt godawful. He didn't know what to expect on how Medusa planned to fix him up. ”Speech” ’Thought’

He didn't look good at all and he equally didn't sound good, either. She could hear the wheezing and raspiness in his throat, and she watched quietly for quite a bit, head tilted, as a coughing fit took over him. She watched as he spits up green phlegm onto the ground, and her head would tilt the other way as she looked at it. It might've been gross for others, but she was used to gross things, and to date, this wasn't the grossest thing she'd seen. He looked like he was hurting a lot from the pain, and she was sure that his coughing fit just made it all so much worse. She turned around and rummaged through the supplies she had brought with her, an ear cocked back as he spoke. She didn't know if he knew where he was or if he knew what was going on. He had been unconscious for a while now, and during that time she had done her best to make sure he didn't die on her. It would be a shame for that to happen, the cow-like boy had been growing on her every time she whooped his ass in a fight. "Where's my mother now?" She didn't turn around right away to answer. Instead, she pulled out a jar of honey that her wolverine companion had collected before quickly shuffling past Macabre for a moment and went just outside the den where Umbra waited with a small fire. Tea was boiled in a battered old tin pot that had been found in the scraps of Veteran's Plateau. Together, her companions carefully lifted it off the fire and poured some of the tea into a roughly carved wooden bowl where Medusa then added some of the honey to it. She motioned for Nox to bring it inside as she heard Macabre's other question. She was considering how to answer the first still but decided she ought to just tell him the truth. Returning to her patient, she looked him straight in the eye (pun intended) as she spoke. "Recluse ran away to hide with the pups. She has not come back for any of you." She looked away as she moved to rummage through her supplies again and left room for Nox to place the bowl of tea near Macabre."Drink this too when it's cooled a bit. Mullein tea with honey, it'll help ease your cough and loosen that nasty mucus you've got stuffed in you." Nox grunted, "And stay hydrated!" he ordered before shuffling back out to sit by the fire. Medusa pulled out a bunch of elderberries and a couple of purple-looking daisy heads (echinacea flowers). She turned and dropped the flowers into the tea bowl and put the elderberries next to it before looking at him with a grin. "This will help you feel better, and Medusa also has things for pain. Ghoul and Widow are here, Medusa is healing them like she is doing with you. She doesn't know which one is Ichor or...Viscera, but one is here and the other one ran away somewhere. Don't worry though, Medusa will find the ones that ran! The other ones that are here are Misery and Eraithus." She tapped her paws on the ground, letting him process what she'd said before she started working some more. "Medusa"

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"
Medusa was an enigma for the cow-spotted boy. He lifted his head up a bit higher as his wounds would allow, tilting his head just a tad in curiosity as the woman had prepared a whole little fire and was steeping some weird stuff over it. And he companions were running around and lifting and carrying things, too. What a funny little bunch. He was almost amused; but he clearly wasn’t showing anger, or even the slightest upset. Perhaps they were alike in the way they didn’t always show the appropriate emotions for a given situation. He just didn’t have the emotional capability to feel bitter or pissed off. Perhaps he should be - maybe that’s what Medusa wanted to see.

He simply blinked instead, a blank expression on his face - or what could be seen through the bandages. Her companion shuffled over with the wooden bowl of that boiling hot stuff, adding some honey to it as Medusa explained that his mother ran off and hadn’t come back for any of his siblings. Just her newest pups - which he had no care for as he’d barely seen them prior to the challenge. And speaking of..his brow furrowed as he concentrated on the information he had, processing it as he glanced down at the bowl of warm tea-stuff and honey. "So if she ran away, that means she lost the pack challenge," he said simply. No anger. No rage. Not even pain. Just matter-of-factly, as if making a conclusion about a math problem rather than the realization that life as he knew it had fallen apart. "So you’re the new leader of Habari then. Or whatever you named it now." Her companion spoke gruffly about what the tea was, and to stay hydrated, something like that, and Medusa dropped some weird looking berries next to it as well. It was supposed to ease his cough, and as another fit shook his body and rattled the mucus in his chest with a few seconds of honking, wheezing, and gasping, he swallowed thickly, gingerly sniffing the tea. For all he knew, Medusa was trying to poison him; but she had let him live so far, and what reason was there to kill him now? He took a sip of the tea, trying his best to allow the honey to melt on his tongue as he did so. Still, it seemed a bit bitter.

She explained that Ghoul and Widow were being healed. Oh. So they were hurt in the pack challenge too? Maybe they also got messed up by some little guy with big raptor claws, themselves. He had no recollection of Ghoul’s limbs and Widow’s pregnancy, of course. She also said she didn’t know which of the twins she had - fair enough, he got them confused sometimes too. One was tall the other was smoll. Apparently, one of them was here, the other ran off. Good for them! He hoped he’d have a good adventure, though Medusa’s words implied she was willing to hunt him down and bring him back. Secretly he was rooting for his bro, of course, ‘cause family was important and such. The rest were with Misery and Eraithus, that guy that his mom liked. He didn’t really know him well, and Misery? He kind of drifted apart the more his brother went off on his spying missions, and clearly wouldn’t like what he’d gone and done to himself. So he really only concerned himself for his own siblings, because he could wrap his head around that.

"So, um. What’re you planning to do with all of us?" He inquired simply, nonchalantly. He sipped his tea, looking up at Medusa curiously with his one good eye. He and his siblings were hated by her, as far as he knew, and she despised their mother for her initial enslavement. So were they all at her mercy then? Funny how life turned the tables like that.

"So if she ran away, that means she lost the pack challenge," Medusa shuffled through some more items to check and see what else she might need, if anything, for Macabre. "Yup!" She replied nonchalantly. Like him, her emotions weren't exactly appropriate for most situations. They were either there, or they weren't. Emotional regulations? What was that? Hell if she knew! "So you’re the new leader of Habari then. Or whatever you named it now." She turned to look at him with a big grin, proud of her accomplishment. "Yes! Medusa named it Insomnia!" She said proudly, tail beating the ground with glee. She had proven her worth in a high-stakes fight and tore Recluse's crown from her head. That was definitely a day she wouldn't forget! She giggled to herself, though given the current situation it was a bit out of place. Then again, Macabre and the others were probably used to her strange mannerisms by now.

She waited for the young male to do as he was instructed and drink the tea. She watched him like a hawk, mostly to see if it might need anything else or if he'd like it. She knew it wasn't the best-tasting stuff, but it was stuff that would help him nonetheless. That nasty cough that threatened to choke him sounded terrible, and she remembered having something similar when she was very young, pre-Habari days. This concoction had helped her get rid of it, so she was glad that she remembered kinda sorta how to make it. With her companion's help, of course.

"So, um. What’re you planning to do with all of us?" Her attention drew up to look at him as she hummed in response. Well, she hadn't exactly thought about that. So she shrugged. "Medusa never planned this far. She never planned to fight for Habari, but Cow-Boy's mom made her, and now here you are! Medusa wants to make you better first, and then..." She shrugged again. She didn't have anything against him specifically. Or Ghoul. Or Widow. Or those who hadn't done anything to her directly. Outside of Kali, who was already dead. Misery, and Recluse...oh, and she supposed Eraithus she definitely didn't trust yet just for the simple fact he was Recluse's mate, the others hadn't mistreated her. "Medusa doesn't know. But Medusa won't be mean to you." She exclaimed, offering a lighthearted smile to show that she was genuine about it.

speech

code by Cloudy; art by Cloudy