That light sparking in the corner of her eye, Wilder felt accomplished. He couldn't say he knew everything about being a slave, but one thing he did know was that they were at the bottom of the barrel. So giving her a taste of control would be more than enough to push her to the limit. How fucking stupid could he be? Reckless, stupid, and immature. Wilder hadn't even expected her to go along with it. He hadn't been that serious... Or had he? Had he been wanting to push her to that limit, see how much she could take to set her attitude right. Fuck.

Wilder stood motionless as she pushed off him and took a few rushed steps ahead. His unblinking stare watched as she tumbled back into the snow. Yet, this time, she made no moves. Nothing happened after the thud of her body hitting the ground except for the cry of agony. She looked dead.

"Fuck, gods dammit, fuck, fuck, fuck," he murmurs under his breath, cursing the whole way over to her as he rushes to her side. "Vesper," Wilder speaks urgently, eyes wide and ears pressed forward as he falls back down into the snow beside her. His nose finds her neck, pushing against her to see if she'll respond. "Fuck," he curses again, head jolting up to look around. Not that they had gotten that far from the warrens, but enough that he wasn't sure he could leave her alone.

"Help!? Anyone!?" Wilder calls out loudly before he drapes his head over her shoulder more to keep her warm than anything else.

WILDER

She felt the moment Wilder landed in the snow beside her. His nose against her neck was so small in comparison to the endless flare of pain rolling across her body. Oh gods, it hurt. It hurt almost more than when the polar bear had been taking a munch. “Heh, heh.” she said weakly, looking up into Wilders' very concerned face.

Wow, was he really that scared for a slave? Maybe he was afraid there would be consequences. Messing up property that belonged to someone else. “Gotcha.” She said, as if she was pranking him. As if falling over had all been part of her plan. She closed her eyes, and let that rolling pain take her under, her head sagging back down against his.


"Speech"

Her pained 'heh heh' as her eyes met his had his blood roiling. Ears flattened, facial expression going blank as he stared back at her with a pointed glare. The quiet rumble in his chest was indicative that he clearly didn't find her falling down again to be humorous. But it was clear she was faking it, trying to hide the pain that no doubt was taking over all of her senses. As much as he wants to swat her for being a dumbass, he holds back. Stubborn as she was, she clearly needed help.

As her eyes close and head rests against him, he lets out a sigh. "C'mon, I'll carry ya back," he murmurs quietly, steeling himself for the ache that was sure to come after this endeavor. And even if she didn't help him, he wouldn't take no for an answer. Slowly and carefully, Wilder noses himself under Vesper's shoulders and manages a rather awkward sliding lift as he comes to stand with her hanging over his shoulders. "Hang on, it'll prolly be bumpy," Wilder warns through gritted teeth as he begins the precarious walk back to the infirmary.

WILDER

She might have actually blacked out for a bit, the pain intensified as her consciousness surfaced again, or perhaps it was because of movement. She could feel her body being tugged around. For a whole second she thought she was back in the snow, her body moving with each pull and tear of the bear's teeth in her back.

But then the scent of Wilder was around her, and she remembered that she was in the Armada. Safe, healing, and not in the process of being eaten alive. She made soft little panting noises as Wilder dragged her onto his back. “If you..” -huff, huff “Wanted to be… a bottom. You should have said.” she managed to squeeze out through the pain.


"Speech"

Once she is slung over his back, he can hear her quiet pants of exhaustion. The words leaving her lips were barely heard over the crunch of his paws on the snow, but one of his ears still turned backward to listen. Ignoring the comment for now with a mere roll of his eyes, he slowly and carefully takes her back through the warren and into the infirmary. Without having to wait for her tediously pained steps, the journey back went far quicker.

Making his way to her cot, he slips her onto it from his shoulders as gently as he can. Once she is laid upon it, he leans his muzzle down closer to her ear. "Vespur, I ain' gonna be that easy to sleep with. Jus' cause ya wanna know what a real man can do for ya doesn' mean everythin' ya say's gotta be sexual," his deep western accent with its gristly rumble might not be attractive to some, but the way his voice carries out in a breathy whisper would either entice her or scare her. "'Sides, I like ta take my time," Wilder smirks, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls away from her to fully stand.

"Do ya need anythin' for the pain? 'M sure Sir Oleander's got somethin' o'er here that'll help," he turns from Vesper to wander over to the medicine stores. Of course, he has no idea what he's looking for, but putting space between them was necessary for his words to fully sink in and have an effect.

WILDER

It seemed the journey back to the healers den took no time at all, showing how much effort for very little gain she had gone through. But wasn’t that just the story of her life? She gritted her teeth, fighting back the pain as Wilder took her through the door and back to her bed. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn’t have anything to say for the walk, she wasn’t sure she would have had the strength for any biting or sassy words to give back to him.

Despite her pain, at his words she barked a quick, genuinely amused laugh that she instantly regretted when it pulled at her tender muscles. “Honey, what makes you think you're a real man?” she teased him right back. She had a lot of sass for a wolf crouched in a bed, in too much pain to get out of it.

I like to take my time… she raised a brow at him, that had sounded an awful lot like an invitation. “I’ve got nothing but time.” She said blandly as he stepped away to raid Oleander’s supplies. “Does he have any alcohol?” She’d never had a drink in her life, but she wasn’t about to admit that outloud.


"Speech"

He ignores her first comment with a huff from his nostrils. Does it hurt his ego a tad? Sure, but will he let it bother him? No. He had nothing to prove to this slave. Even if he didn't out rightly believe in the whole slave business thing, it still meant he was technically a step above her (he's more humble than this, I swear). But as he walks away, her bland comment about having time does bring out a chuckle in him. Pausing for a second to look at her over his shoulder, a smirk lingering on his charcoal lips.

"Good! Then surely ya won' get bored," he comments back before moving forward to reach the storage cabinet full of names of things he didn't comprehend. Beginning to rifle through what was there, trying to look for something familiar, he alerts her with to the alcohol question with a gruff rumble that sounded more like he was clearing his throat. "Don' think alcohol gonna be right good fer ya anyway," Wilder mentions as he finally comes across a bottle labeled 'Eucalyptus' and faintly remembers Oleander having given him some to rub on his own scars.

Grabbing the bottle, he takes it back over to Vesper and places it on the cot beside her. "Do ya need my help or can ya do it by yerself?" Wilder questions with a slight raise of his brow and a tilt of his head. He has a feeling what she's about to say, but he finds amusement in trying to also figure it out.

WILDER

Having all the time in the world meant boredom was exactly what she felt. Her life had been a series of pain and fear and work. This… idling by, lying on her cot as she waited for the slow process of her body to stitch back together again was agonising. “Yes mum” She told Wilder as he declined to get her alcohol. She settled a little more carefully on the bed while he was by the cabinet. Spreading herself out a little more with slow motions. Mindful of how much her body was hurting just then.

Vesper liked to pretend she didn’t need anyone, and could be as independent as she pleased, but twisting was a motion that she wasn’t capable of right now. Besides, she wasn’t finishing tossing Wilder out of his comfort zones. “I want you to put your paws on me, Wilder.” she batted her eyes at the older boy.


"Speech"

He notices how she's stretched out further across the cot, no doubt attempting to get comfortable. Her injuries were far worse than his own and he couldn't imagine how much pain she actually was in. Truthfully, he admired the way she dug deep and hid the truth from the surface. Kind of reminded him of himself. Didn't need anyone thinking he was weak after all! But then of course, no surprise, she ruins his moment of admiration with words that leave him both with flushed cheeks and eye rolling backward.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't ya?" He replies after a baffling moment of trying to keep his composure, looking down at her as she bats her eyes back up at him. It was also safe to say that he wasn't used to females being so forward. Try as he might to tell himself that she's doing it to get under his skin, his little pea brain full of hormones wants to believe she's being truthful.

Letting out a sigh, he plops himself down beside her cot and clears his throat uncomfortably as he reaches out to remove the bandages that cover her wounds. "Now, I ain' got no practice in none of this. So if anythin' hurts or ya know, jus' yell at me," Wilder warns, his expression showing just how awkward he feels as he tries to help as best as he can.

WILDER

Oh that was entirely too fun. She scored a direct hit, and got right under his skin. She knew he was trying to hide it, but there was a faint flush to his cheeks, and he clearly needed a moment to compose himself. She smiled, feeling more at ease the more awkward she made the poor boy. It was true, she was enjoying herself a little too much. Perhaps she needed to think up a better past time than torturing the wolves around her.

He put himself down beside her and leaned over her to remove the bandages. She sucked in a breath, knowing that now he would see just how badly injured she was. Would see the skin where the fur might never grow back. The mince-meat lines of lashes, torn jagged from the teeth of a polar bear. She was vain enough to regret the loss, and to wish that he would believe the strong exterior she put on when the truth was she was as weak as a kitten. She lost her composure for a moment, stupid vain girl that she was and closed her eyes. Not even trying to get under his skin again, at least not for the moment.


"Speech"

Wilder had never seen injuries like this before. As he tenderly and very carefully peels away the bandages to reveal the full extent of damage, he can't hide the tiny gasp that leaves his lips. Subtly is not his forte. He is quick to clamp his teeth together, scorning himself for being such an idiot, but he can't take it back either. What was done was done.

"Yer lucky to be alive," he murmurs softly, moving to open the bottle and dab some on a dry, clean piece of cloth he had also grabbed. His eyes are focused on the task, not noticing the way she lost her composure or how she was fast to shut her eyes. Or maybe he told himself he didn't notice. Didn't want to make it worse for her even though he wasn't the best at those sorts of things. "It might sting at first," Wilder warns as he presses gently upon the wounds, lightly spreading the eucalyptus ointment over the tender and shredded skin.

WILDER

“I know.” she said dryly. Perhaps now her most clever sass, but WIlder had no idea that he was pressing at one of her weak spots right now. Vanity. His eyes on her wound left her feeling naked and vulnerable before him. When that happened, her sass usually got to its worst, but this time she just sounded tired when she said “Rethinking that alcohol yet?”

He put his hands on her then, rubbing the eucalyptus over her jagged, healing skin. “Oh yeah baby, touch me.” She said, but her voice was dry instead of sassy as she gave a weaker attempt to get under his skin. To make him feel as awkward as she was in that moment


"Speech"

Wilder snorts at her comments as he tries to focus on applying the pain relief and anti-inflammatory ointment over her jagged wounds. "Alcohol woul' be nice to tolerate yer attitude," he retorts back, his own tone dry sounding as his expression remains focused and determined.

Trying his best not to make matters worse, he's once more taken aback by her seductive comments even if he could tell that her tone was also dry. He knows that she's trying to stay under his skin, but he can't help the way his ears fold backward and his brows knit together. A lip rises with a quiet grumble in his chest. "Don' ya ever get tired of that act?" Wilder finally questions, red eyes switching from his task to her face, lips pulling down into a tight line to show that he was getting tired of it so she must be too.

WILDER

“Is that why my last masters always drank it?” she said with false curiosity, as if that was the excuse they needed to get wasted. She fell silent again for a moment, and then huffed a soft laugh at his words. “Maybe it’s fun seeing how far I can twist your face around.” Anything was better than thinking about his eyes on her back, and the tattered fur there.

She let out a soft breath, and more words slipped out. Honest ones, instead of cruel or sassy. “It’s harder to hurt you when they don’t know what actually hurts.” she was looking at the bedding beneath her, her skin prickled. Not from the ointment, but at the horrible feeling of being seen.


"Speech"

Wilder isn't the smartest when it came to being social. He didn't often think hard or long about the deep meaning behind someone else's behavior. Honestly, there wasn't often a filter there. He tended to be more of an 'act now, think later' sort of wolf and it was no wonder he had little to no friends. So when her words come out, he can't help but grumble again. "Ya know that ain't why," he shoot backs, brows knitting together even further as he tries to focus on not hurting her already surely painful wounds.

"I can keep twisting it around if it'll make ya feel bigger an' better than me," Wilder finally snaps, exhaustion riddling his own features as he pauses from applying the ointment to lean back and look her hard in the face. He's about to go off on her for being so wily and stubborn, but her open and honest admission leaves his speechless. His mouth drops open a tad, an exhaled sigh leaving him as he looks away and toward the floor. Good thing he had only made half an ass out of himself so far.

"I get the feelin' no one's gonna try to be hurtin' ya no more," he softs softly. Though the Warlord was intimidating and believed in the whole slave business stuff, he couldn't imagine Oleander sticking through with it. The boy was a healer after all and healers didn't do those types of things. Right? Would be kind of fucked up, wouldn't it? "I know yer prolly been through a ton of shit an' one conversation with a guy ya barely know ain' gonna fix much of anythin', but maybe me doin' these things for ya is kinda proof that I ain' got no bad intentions?" Wilder speaks tentatively, eyes slowly rising back up to look at Vesper, see what she was feeling in that moment.

WILDER

She stops breathing for a moment when Wilders voice leaves him in a snap, and he turns his towering form down to look in her face. Giving her no room to move, to escape. Had she pushed too far? But when his sigh left him, she found she could breathe again. She took in a couple slow, shallow breaths. Not showing her fear.

I get the feelin' no one's gonna try to be hurtin' ya no more. She couldn’t help her derisive snort. Disbelief clear in that short noise. Right, sure. Because no one ever hurt a slave.

But Wilder kept at it, trying to convince her with his words… and it was true, that carrying her back to the den and easing pain relief on her back was not something her last masters would have even dreamed of. She hadn’t even heard of a healer before she had come here. She had thought oleander was some weird witch when she had woken up in his herb covered den. “Just because I don’t know how you guys do your evil shit doesn't mean you don’t do it.” She muttered, and then perked up a tiny bit. “But I might believe you more if you swiped me a bottle of alcohol.” Hehe, she wondered how much trouble that would get him into if he went through with it.


"Speech"

She had finally found the straw that would break the camel's back. As soon as the muttering words turned hopefully sassy, Wilder's ear fly backward, lips rippling upward into a sneer. He suddenly pushes away from the cot, leaving her wounds open and without bandages. Rising to his paws, he stalks away from her as his scruff and the fur lining his back begin to bristle and puff up. Unable to hold back the growl, he walks - no he stomps over to the cabinet, quickly swiping a bottle of rubbing alcohol and takes it back to her cot. Tossing it roughly on the space beside her, he levels her with a hard, annoyed, and 'I'm so done with it' stare.

"Happy?" He snaps, lips lifting to reveal his teeth. "Not even sure if the whole slave thing is true anymore. Maybe yer jus' usin' it as a cover up to get attention, yeah?" Wilder snarls now, fed up with her attitude and snotty demeanor. "I ain' been nothin' but nice to ya an' that's how ya wanna go treatin' me? Bitin' the paw that helps? Not so bright are ya?" He continues, teeth practically clacking together as he bristles beside her. It wasn't often he truly got upset at others, but she had gone one step too far.

Unable to calm down or really know a positive way to do so, he turns on his heels and moves over to another cot on the far side of the room. Slumping down onto it to prevent himself from actually smacking some sense into it, he places his chin atop his paws and stares at the dried herb filled way. Snapping at her hadn't been a great idea, but physically harming her would've made him just as bad as the others. Which he would prove (for some reason he wasn't sure why) he was actually better than them.

WILDER

Vesper recoiled in surprise when Wilder suddenly threw himself to his paws and left the cot, storming to the cabinet and grabbing a bottle that he half threw at her. She ducked, expecting it to hit her on the head, but it landed on the bed beside her. The thing about Vesper, was that she was all growl and no bite. The moment Wilder showed his teeth, she ducked down. Expecting a hell of a lot more of a lashing than just his words.

Instead, he growled at her and stormed away. Finding another cot a little distance away and sulked in it. Vesper slunk down in her coat, ears slicked back at Wilders sudden outburst. She found herself… almost missing his closer presence. Gluten for punishment that she was. She pushed the bottle of alcohol under her pillow out of sight. Perhaps she’d see what all the fuss was about there at a later date. When she didn’t feel Wilders' angry presence just a short throw away.


"Speech"

Wilder expected her to lash back. To say something catty or witty or something. When the room falls quiet and all he can hear is himself breathing and her gently shifting in her cot, he nearly can't stand it. Silence is only golden during a hunt. Beneath the ground, in the warrens, it is like nails on a chalkboard for him. He can't stand it. It only takes a minute or two before his anger has dissipated and his resolve has crumbled. He's still incredibly annoyed at her behavior, at her stupid words, but he's trying to be understanding. Which is also far out of the ballpark for himself.

With a sigh, he gets up from the cot and turns to look at her. Watching her for a moment, he slowly wanders back over, expression dull and uncertain. "Ya still want my company or shoul' I get lost?" He inquires, uncaring which one she would choose.

WILDER

After a little bit of silence, Wilder was back on his paws again and wondering over her way. His emotions seemed to bounce around as wildly as hers did, but more on display. She slicked her ears forward again out of their submissive posture. Wouldn’t want him thinking she was afraid of him or anything.

His words… confused her. A lot. She wrinkled her nose in confusion and actually looked up into his eyes for a second. “You're here by choice? I figured you were on babysitting duty.” She explained. She had thought it had been his job to stick around. Oleander had told him to walk her after all.


"Speech"