Adrenaline draining from her system, it's a miracle she makes it across the narrow straight home. Saltwater stinging the fresh wounds that mar her side, her muzzle, her chest-- scraped to high hell. It's not just the surface that hurts, that aches, that stings. Bad shape is an understatement as she paddles through the water, fighting to keep her head above. Coughing on seawater, grateful as her paws catch a sandbar as she draws close. Fuck.

Making it? Maybe not. Jael finds herself stumbling through water that comes up through her elbows. Tripping, another mouthful of it. Hind leg all but useless now, and the rest of them would be soon to follow. Exhaustion gripping her, making threats that Jael doesn't know how to process. She's too stubborn. Way too stubborn for her own good.

Ever have that thought, would my dog protect me if someone tried to break in? This one would try her hardest, even if it's for the worst. This one tried really fucking hard. Loyal like a dog, Jael's hind legs give way. Slumped in the shallow water, the pet blacks out.

Kenway had made a delivery before the raid had been called, a surprise for Jael, (a surprise for him when his mother had told him to put it in her room), smelling of the soap they had crafted together and causing Modesty to smile. Now, Sakana is with her as she prowls the beach, awaiting the outcome of the raid. Jael is the first to return and even then she barely makes it out of the water. It's nothing for Modesty to pick the little dog up, Sakana helping to position her across the leaders back, mindful to keep her quills settled to save the other woman any more pain.

There were several fires set up in the healing camp, she needed to be on hand for all of them, after all, as much as she wanted to spirit the girl away upstairs, she picked a fire on the edge of the gathering and placed her out on the furs that had been laid to keep sand out of wounds. She uncorked a bottle to have on hand, gently nudging the girls face. Salt water had done a good job to start, but there was work to be done yet. “Jael, you're going to want some of this before I start stitching you up. Come on now, you're tougher than that.” She insistently nibbled under the dogs ear, licking at her cheek and over her eyes. “Time to face the music sunshine, the hurting isn't over yet.”

“Speech.”

When the world swims into focus around her, the first thing she finds is Modesty. Nudged awake by the woman, a bottle beside her face. Bringing Jael back around, the wolfdog eventually comes to. A whimper catches in her throat. Greeted by the pain first, Modesty second, and the booze third-- Jael's eyes flicker open. They're wide, they come with a whimper. Everything stings, everything burns, and it feels like there's sand in her mouth.

Head lifting just enough, she takes a long sip from the bottle. Another. Another. The warmth spreads through her system, but Jael can feel the tattered skin as it moves. Reaching for Modesty, she tries to curl closer, only to be greeted by still more pain blooming across her side. Flinching, her head rests back in the sand. "Are they still going?" It's a question that comes quietly, meekly. Jael is worried, it's plain on her face.

Gritting her teeth as she inches toward Modesty, but still puddled in the sand and bleeding. Everything hurts.

   

Seeing the woman take a drag from the bottle, she waits a little longer. Jael might be small but she'll need more than that for what is to come and it will need a few moments to kick in. Until then, Modesty starts applying a soothing ointment to the wolfdog's wounds, something that will clean but also numb the area. She had to admit, Sakana had grown in leaps and bounds when it came to this sort of thing. When the question comes, Modesty checks the sky towards the black sanded beach, spotting Moo on his way back. “It must be almost done,” she nodded her head towards the bird. “Will I need to do the same for any of my children this time?” She asked out of interest, worry growing in the pit of her stomach that she hadn't seen Gilgamesh yet either. “Come on, drink up, the sooner we get you put back together, the sooner we can see how everyone else fairs.” We of course offered in the Royal sense. Jael would be staying right where she was if Modesty had anything to say about it.

“Speech.”

Jael's eyes are wide, trying to keep herself steady as Modesty cleans the cuts, as she does her best to soothe them. Though the whimpering doesn't entirely fade, it grows softer. Between the booze and the thick salve, the little dog is doing her best. Better living through chemical intervention, they call it. She shudders, stiffening with the news that they're still going.

Biting her swimming head back together as best she can, Jael grimaces. "I didn't get a good look, it's bad... worse than last time." Though she could suppose, the escalation was to be expected. Even more grimly, the realization falls over her-- "He's not back?" Voice cracking, the panic of it all gripping her system as she becomes more lucid. The little dog knows well enough that Modesty knows who he is.

"I jumped Bellamy after she hurt him," Jael's words are quiet, stricken. The little dog trembles, trying to get to her feet-- crashing back onto the mat beneath her feet. Rear leg won't hold, among other issues. "I didn't see him when I left, I couldn't stay, I," she hiccups, the alcohol enough to at least slow her words, slow her spiral.

   

There's a visible hardening around the edges of Modesty's eyes at the mention of Bellamy. That one would need to be put down, but that wasn't her worry right now. It was clear the battle had been more ferocious than their own playful grab at sick chickens, but she imagined her Raider's were giving as good as they were getting. The lazy way her kite dipped and wheeled through the sky rather than racing back to her spoke volumes to the woman. “He's big enough and ugly enough to look out for himself, he's probably just making sure they get out and the kids get clear.” There was an anxious twisting of her stomach that wouldn't show on her face, wouldn't slide into her voice. Project the outcome she expected and the universe wouldn't give her anything else, right?

Modesty reached for the sharpened snake rib needle, only pausing to check in with Jael before she began to stitch her up. The movement was smooth and precise, anyone would think she had done this before (you didn't live with an antagonistic pack like this one this long without picking up some ancillary skills). “What did they come for anyway?” The cow's shit so much Modesty was about to give them away, the goats had only been here a few days and she was already worrying about how they were going to keep them fed in a few months' time. That really only left booze or the chickens, and they were welcome to what was left of those too, so why the bloodshed? She'd made it obvious how they would be greeted that day on the beach, were they just that dense?

“Speech.”

A weak smile, trying to bite back the anxiety that welled up in her chest. She hadn't seen enough to know for sure, but in the chaos it seemed like they were getting their pound of flesh.

Nodding, allowing it to go on-- it wasn't going to get any easier. Jael's mind still spinning, moving too quickly for her own good, near nauseous from it. Modesty's voice pulls her down to the ground at least a bit, taking a shaky breath. "What they want isn't here anymore, there's some market pigeons 'n decoy hares in the pool." The words are grumbled, she's trying to grit her teeth. Trying to stay distracted. Trying to stay grounded to Modesty.

Modesty finished stitching up the worst of Jael's wounds and dressing the others while she spoke. At least it served as a distraction for the other woman but something she said drew Modesty's brows together in more than concentration on the task at hand. Something she had said had gotten the leader to thinking. The Hallows kept crows, it gave them a lot of extra eyes, a way to send messages out when they otherwise couldn't. “The pigeons, the come back don't they?” Even in the strongest storms, the bird never seemed to stay gone for long. “Do you think they could be trained for message delivery? Scouting even perhaps? Or maybe we would have to catch pigeons when we raid other packs and keep them in a roost here to let loose when we need to send a message?” Of course, there was every chance they were too dumb to be much use too, but if they were going to roost on her islands, it seemed a shame not to put them to earning a keep if they could. It also might keep Jael distracted from the other wolves that were slowly trickling in after the raid.

“Speech.”

Modesty is doing her best to distract Jael, something the little dog can be thankful for. As long as she can focus, as long as she can set her too-busy mind down a path... even if the path is rocky. Jael is trying not to think too hard about Gilgamesh, either. Though the stitching shut of her wounds hurts in ways she can't imagine, it's all she can do to grit her teeth and seek comfort in Modesty.

The question of pigeons brings the swimming in her head down a notch, a little whimper in Jael's throat as she tries to focus. "Most come back, t-they can--" she hiccups, reaches for the bottle once more. Trying to focus on her breathing, trying not to let the pain in her side get the best of her. Trembling as Modesty works... she's braver than this. Right?

"They can be trained, messengers 'n light deliveries. I can... can select for intelligent ones... for scouting. It'll take time," watery, somewhat tearful gaze as she looks to Modesty. The rawness of the wounds and her own emotions as she trembles against the sand, against the woman. Coming away with won fights, but the cost is written all over the pet.

   

It seemed keeping Jael's brain engaged was the way forward while they waited for the medication to kick in. Sakana and Rivin had the other patients under control so she wrapped her larger body around the smaller woman to try and fight off the onset of shock. She was pretty torn up, and Modesty imagined with her smaller body she wouldn't have as much blood to spare as say, someone like Ignis. “Well there's certainly no rush, you should stay closer to home while you recover. You seem to like busy work no? And at least this if you're catching birds, you won't be tearing your stitches open pushing yourself too hard to clear out a pool, will you?” There was a half-smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, that grew as she saw Gilgamesh pulling himself up on the shore. “See, big enough and ugly enough to look after himself. You should rest now.” Sakana was approaching with some blankets for Jael and keeping half an eye on Gilgamesh as he rushed about from one fighter to another. All would be well.

“Speech.”

Staying still, doing less... it's never been her style, but Jael relents. Her gaze still wide on Modesty, quick to curl up against her side as she cuddles close. Perhaps the usual filter, the usual hesitancy to accept affection has faded. A side effect of the medication or the head injury, the world may never know.

"Just... make sure there's someone to keep up with the rabbits?" It was maybe the dirtiest work she did, as well as the most strenuous. Turning and replacing the soil, making sure that they were keeping track of the compost-- right. Jael's gaze fell on Gil as he dragged himself up the beach, finally able to relax. The little dog going slack as her head drops against Modesty's shoulder.