Vaniel’s amber orbs scoured the cliff side. Tharamon had abandoned her. She was alone and rather battered. Two ribs were broken; she had scrapes and gashes all alone her sides, flank and shoulders. She needed help, but help would never come. Her alone chance had gone, left her to go who knows where. The sound of the shore crashed against the rocks, and Vaniel closed her eyes. She was ready, ready to die. What did she have, anyways? No family, no friends, the one brute she had placed even a small amount of trust in had abandoned her! He had fed her, true, but hadn’t she just thrown it back up? She’d swallowed so much sea water, she was sure her kidneys were going to fail soon. Why did he even think she wanted something that tasted of the ocean?
Vaniel sucked in a deep breath and then jumped. The water was freezing, and it knocked the breath from her frail body. She inhaled water, and instinctively fought the current of the powerful ocean, coughing and spluttering whenever her head broke the surface. She flailed wildly in the water, her fur drenched and her body ice cold. The under tow dragged her down into the water, her eyes and nose stinging from the salt water. She broke the surface of the water once again and started kicking, more from instinct that actual want. Maybe she would have done better off to just eat a few poisonous herbs. But then again, she wasn’t very good when it came to those healing plants.
The water pushed and pulled at her, thrusting her into the rocks. She let out a howl of pain as her ribs splintered even further, and yet another one cracked. Her wounds re-opened and her blood flowed freely into the water. The salt stung even more. Crashing against the sharp rocks again, she blacked out…
The little Iranian male had been traveling along, looking for herbs and such on his way through the island. He was carrying a basket that he had constructed from twigs and vines and other things that he had found in in countless hours of free time. It looked something similar to a bird's nest with a handle on it. He couldn't say that he didn't enjoy his free time because that would be a flat out lie. he loved his free time. He loved being able to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to do it. Sure, he would join a pack if it had an alpha who respected that fact and also respected that he was not going to refer to them with anything more formal than "sir." He was not the type of wolf to grovel on his belly. He was sweet and friendly but, not undignified. If someone wanted his respect, he would need to earn it.
He looked up at the cliffs. They were huge and rather beautiful in a strange way. He was the type that noticed and appreciated things like nature. He smelled the air and it smelled like.....wolf. What an odd smell to be smelling around here. He had thought that he would certainly be the only one here. It smelled like sea water and blood. Maybe someone decided to take a swim in the deadly ocean. Probably not. It was probably someone who fell in or was pushed in from the cliffs and by the smell of blood they needed help. His long lean legs carried his swiftly to where the female was seemingly washed up. He put down his basket of different herbs and walked over to the female. He was sniffing her to make sure she was still alive. She seemed to be alive so he nudged her with his nose. He didn't want to nudge her too harshly because he was not sure if she had broken any of her bones.C'mon, wake up. He was saying partially to her and partially to himself. He was hoping desperately that she was going to be okay but, from the looks of it, there was not a good chance of that. This was his first real emergency. He had fixed battle wounds, porcupine attacks and colds and other mild to moderate illnesses. He sat and stared at her sweetly but intently. He was going to nudge her again if she did not wake up. He was not going to sit here and watch her die but, he couldn't just start medicating her for obvious reasons. She might be in shock so she might reject the medication or she could randomly wake up and attack him while he was working on her because she wouldn't know what he was doing. Is he had anything to do with it, she was going to live whether she wanted to or not.
Words;;574 Muse;; not bad Tagged;; Vaniel's Vaniel Mood;; determined Other;;
Somewhere in the deep recesses of Vaniel's conscious, she felt a nudge. It wasn't sharp, not at all, it was rather gentle in fact, and barely hurt her at all. She was sinking, she must be. She was dying of course, and the nudge was one of the rocks. But the rocks were sharp, not gentle. Still, the nudge was cold and wet, so it could have been the rocks...Vaniel was float in a semi-conscious state. She could feel, she could hear, but she could not react nor give any sign that she had heard, or had felt. In her conscious, Vaniel was resisting the comings of wakefulness. She did not want to wake, she wanted to die.
Then came the voice. "Wake up."
[/b] 'Oh, great, now the voices are coming on...' she thought, startled by the revelation that she could, actually, think. A few minutes ago she had been unable to hear her own thoughts. Perhaps she had not been thinking at all. Vaniel let out a low whimper of pain and fear, but did not open her eyes. It was too soon for that. Instead of seeing, she felt. She was on, for the second time, something grainy, with a coarse texture. 'I'm on a God damn beach again?!' she snarled inwardly, groaning. She hated beaches. Not only had she first washed up on one, but she had puked on one, and the sand always stung and got into her wounds and under her paws....Sand sucked.
Vaniel shifted on the sand, and the tiny grains scratched deep into her wounds. It was so fierce, the pain, it felt as if she were being bitten and scratched a hundred times over. This wrenched her from her state of semi-consciousness, and she let out a horrible yelp, jumping up and frantically licking at her wounds. Her tongue did little to help. Then she saw the other wolf. A male, and rather small. Vaniel's eyes widened, and she let out a snarl. "Who are you?!"
The female let out a whimper. It seemed that she was in pain and afraid. He could understand her fear at the moment because she had not yet opened her eyes. He was sure that when she opened them that she would not be so frightened. She looked like she was in pain. He wanted to help her so badly it almost hurt him. Some would think that it is silly to think this way about wolves he has barely met but, if they are in need; he will help them. She definitely was in need. Her wounds looked rather sever and perhaps a broken rib or two but, he wouldn't know that for sure unless he felt her rib cage. She yelped which surprised him a bit and he jumped. Loud noises were not his favorite thing, especially not random loud noises but, he recovered quickly and watched as she licked her wounds. He knew that it would do little good. Her wounds were must past the point of being able to be fixed with licking. He wanted to tell her that but, she said something first. She snarled at him, a response he didn't really think that he deserved. Her eyes were big and she demanded to know who he was. It was a reasonable demand so he complied.I'm Scout and I'm a shaman. I want to help you. Usually he would have been much more friendly and social but, this was a serious situation. Your wounds are pretty bad and licking them won't help you. He looked on her with kindness and compassion. He truly wanted to help her and would do everything in his power to do so. His voice was serious but, tender. He wanted her to know that this was a serious situation just in case she didn't already know but also that he was a friend. He was not planning on hurting the female. Of course if he did, he would have little chance. Even though she was injured, she was still but bigger than he was. I can only help you if you let me. He wanted to leave her with some kind of choice. If she didn't want his help, she would probably get it anyway so it really wasn't a choice but, he decided to be formal about it anyway.
Words;; 481 Muse;; conversation posts are always hard for me Tagged;;Vaniel's Vaniel Mood;; Sweet but focused Other;;
Vaniel stared down the little male until he answered her. ’A Shaman. A Healer.’ she thought with a small snort. She didn’t really care what he was, she didn’t want his herbs. ”I do not require the services of a Shaman.” she growled stiffly, resolutely turning her back on him. She didn’t want to be healed, she wanted to die. Why would no one let her die? Tharamon had made her get up as well. She winced at the memory of him. ’He left. Maybe he was allowing me to die. But he had promised me that he’d help me!’ she thought in anguish. She felt tears prick her coppery orbs, which startled her somewhat. She wiped them away with a paw and growled at herself.
”I know my wounds are severe. I do not need a healer to tell me that.” Vaniel muttered, stopping her licking. She was only trying to get the sand out of them, after all. She knew that she would need some strong herbs and poultices to close and heal her wounds. Then, she snorted and shook herself mentally. What was she thinking about the herbs for? She wasn’t going to get them, she was strong with that decision.
Vaniel hated the way Scout’s voice sounded. It was tender, and sickening. She huffed and lay back down in the sand, ignoring the sting that each grain brought. When he spoke of helping her, Vaniel glared at him once more. ”I do not wish for your help. Leave me be.” she snapped, laying her head on her paws as she glared moodily into the sea. Her stomach rumbled and she groaned. The last thing she had eaten was that putrid seal, which, of course, she had thrown up.
”Why can I not perish right here, right now?” Vaniel howled suddenly, her body scrunching up in the sand. Her claws scored deep marks into it, and the movement from her body made her ribs ache. But she ignored it.
She looked to Scout, her eyes holding all of her desperation, all of her pain. ”Why not?” she questioned again, her voice softer and quieter now. She needed answers.
The female looked kind of..angry. Her tone of voice sounded a little stubborn to him but, he was no good at reading those types of things. As far as he could tell, he had done nothing to deserve her stubbornness. All he wanted to do was help her. Who wouldn't want help? Why would one want to push away someone who was trying to help them when they so obviously needed it. He would never understand the pride or stubbornness of wolves. He, had fits of these emotion occasionally but never in these types of situations. If he was in her shoes and someone asked to help him then he would have been all over it. I didn't mean to insult your intelligence...i was just....I don't know why I said it..I'm sorry. His ears were laid back because he was truely sorry and he felt bad for her. She looked in so much pain and she was not allowing him to help her out of it. Why would someone not want to be helped out of pain? It made no sense to him but, females rarely made sense to him.
She had said that she did not want his help and told him to leave. He ignored her. He did not move one inch. This was a serious situation and would never let himself live it down if he just sat here and watched her die. She deserves life even if she doesn't want it. She can choose to kill herself later after he heals her if she wants to but, he's not leaving her until she is better. He had it set in his mind so, that was what he was going to do. Healing was one of the things that he actually had motivation to do. If he did not need to look for herbs and he had not found this female then, he would probably be napping or playing with some kind of ground animal. It sounded so nice right now. It certainly sounded better than arguing to this wolf about why he should be helping her. It was winter on the Island and it was cold. He was a tiny wolf in the northern territories, a decision that he should have thought about before coming. If the female really did not want his help, then he would have to leave shortly before freezing to death. The ocean winds were not making the situation any better.
She asked why she couldn't die right now. Her body was tense and she dug into the ground. It looked painful for her but, she seemed to be ignoring it. Because you deserve to live and I am not going to let you die. That was of course a bit of a bluff. He would not force his medication on her but, it was a pretty good persuasion technique. His expression did not show his bluff. Her eyes were full of desperation and pain, he wished he could answer her questions better but, he was not great with words. He tried to convey his point the best he could and hoped that she would understand what he meant. He wanted her to know that as long as he was here, she was not going to die if he could help it. As far as he could tell, she had a few more hours before her blood lose would be to great and she would not survive. As long as she agreed to let him help her soon, then he should be able to help her in time. He had several pain killing herbs and other assortments of herbs that would also help her but, he needed consent. He was not the kind of wolf to force anything on another but, he could persuade. He waited for her response and looked at her with a very serious look. Her answer could mean her life or her death. He would hate to have her die because all life is valuable and he would never live with himself if he allowed her to die in pain. Perhaps if she refused, he would offer a lighter pain herb to ease her pain so she would not die in pain.
Words;;795 Muse;; great Tagged;; Vaniel's Vaniel Mood;;very serious Other;;
Vaniel let out a snort and shook herself, spitting the small brute, ”Yeah, you should be sorry! Sorry for meeting me.” Her words were bitter and full of spite, though it wasn’t necessarily directed at Scout himself. Vaniel was just spiteful at the world, and at herself. No good ever came to her, and for that, she was highly resentful. She felt herself slipping away, whether that was to unconsciousness or something else, she was unsure. But all that she knew was the sound of the waves against rock and shore, so sickening a sound that it made her want to vomit all over again. The sound made her unable to fully slip down; she was rising up, falling, coming up again, and then crashing hard. The third time this happened, she looked balefully at Scout and said, ”Do with me what you will. I will offer no resistance…”
Vaniel slipped into unconsciousness finally, and did it gratefully. When she would arise again, she would arise not as Vaniel, and not as Victiore. She would become someone new. This new character was darker, more brooding, near silent. It could have been mute, or at the very least, one would think so. Vaniel’s unconscious mind had decided that if she must live, then it would be a life of silence. Words were not worth the time. Vaniel and Victiore would still be there, of course, but around other wolves, this new character would arise, and create the hard mask that Vaniel herself could not create upon her own form.
It was something that was needed, Vaniel knew. It meant casting her own face into deeper shadows, but she was fine with that. In fact, she liked it, wanted it, and craved it. She needed a way to ease the stress that her insane mind forced upon her; creating new faces was what she did. Only, she didn’t know it, of course. With new personalities, she was able to put certain stresses onto certain figures. By doing this, she ensured that her main spirit remained clear, focused.
Vaniel awoke slowly, raising herself out of her stupor. She found Scout working busily on her, and she lay her head in the sand, her eyes focused on something far away, clouded. This new face was dubbed Nessa, and her mind, though fairly clean of all suicidal thoughts and other things, was hostile to all others, and equally silent.
Words;; 404 Muse;; Fair Tagged;; Scout's Scout Mood;; Unsure Other;; PP was asked for by me, and allowed by Scout.
Scout really didn't know why the female was so cold. She spat at him with her words when all he had wanted to do was help her. She seemed to be angry with herself. He inferred this from her words. Usually when wolves say that another will be sorry that they had met them, it usually has a tint of being angry with themselves or a deep evilness which this wolf did not have as far as he could tell. He felt bad for her. He knew what it was like to suffer. Although he did not suffer from self hatred which this femme must be feeling but, he has had his fair share of suffering in his 3 years of life here on this earth.
She looked at him and said he could do as he wished to her. He felt relief. It was killing him inside to see suffering and not be able to help. He picked up his basket and selected Burdock, a broad leafed plant that would encourage blood clotting at the site of her wounds. He pressed it against her sores and luckily, he had harvested this herb only hours before and was still good to use. The femme slipped into unconsciousness. When she was out, he decided to put an Echinacea salve on her wounds to prevent infection. He would have to tell her not to lick them because it would be deadly if ingested.
The femme seemed to awaken from her unconsciousness and then put her head down in the sand. He didn't know if she was awake enough to understand him at this point but, it was better now to tell her than forget. I put a salve on your wounds to prevent infection and it would be deadly in ingest so please do not lick your wounds. They are not bleeding anymore so it shouldn't be a temptation. He hated being so formal but, he didn't know what else to do. This was a very serious situation and his normal goofy self was just not going to come out. He just wanted the femme to be okay, after he saw that she would be okay then, he could go back to being himself. He waited for a response, if any from the femme.
Words;; 464 Muse;; not bad Tagged;; Vaniel's Vaniel Mood;; concerned Other;;
Vaniel heard Scout’s words as if from far away. She was long gone by now, and it was Nessa’s time to shine. Nessa nodded glumly and stood slowly, testing her wounds. Her scratches weren’t so bad; they would heal within a few hours. It was the cuts and gashes she was worried about. She sniffed at the salve hesitantly, and then wrinkled her nose. Yep, there was no way she’d be licking that. She nodded her head to Scout, a sign of gratitude, however slight. She would speak no words, for there were none worth speaking. Not a thank you, no rudeness, nothing. Nessa shook herself, feeling her ribs ache painfully. There was little in the way of medicine that could help those, except painkillers. She decided that, since she was in a pack territory, that she would go to said pack.
Nessa let out a silent sigh, and then looked at Scout. She bowed her head again, and then she started to walk slowly away from him, limping from the pain, but walking nonetheless. She would not howl for this pack, she would simply go straight to them. They would see that she was injured, and hopefully this would deter them from attacking. She scented the ground, trying to pick up a scent that was neither the ocean, nor her wounds, or the scent of Scout.
Nessa’s eyes hardened and her face became a resolute mask; she was ready, she could do this. She could confront her fears, and join a pack. With a low, near silent growl to herself, Nessa launched herself forward, claws digging into the sand, spraying it everywhere, like droplets of water. She ran, ignoring the pain, onwards to her new destination. The pack’s heart; she would stay here. She could find help here, and maybe, just maybe, she could get over her illness. That was the plan, no matter how hard.
The femme had gotten up and sniffed her wounds. He knew that is smelled bad and she would not want to eat it so he wasn't worried about that. Her ribs were still broken and he probably should have given her a pain killer. He was new at this and didn't always remember things which was not good. Her ribs would heal and he didn't have anything to help them heal better so he justified himself with that. She gave him a silent thank you or, what he took as a silent thank you. She said no words to him, this bothered him slightly but, he did not know this wolf. Perhaps that was they way she was. Maybe she had issues with thanking. Why not? It was very possible that it was the case. He accepted her thank you with a nod of the head.
She turned to go wherever she needed to go. He didn't know where she was going and decided that it was none of his business to ask. She had a tough day today, perhaps if they ever met again then he could be more like himself.
He too, walked in his own direction. He was still on the search for other herbs and possibly more training. He knew quite a bit but, when it came to medicine there was always something more to learn. Learning was not his favorite thing to do, in fact he would rather stick his face in a snake pit but, he loved helping other wolves and that required learning so, that was what he was going to do. He thought that today was pretty eventful and that he deserved a nap and that was exactly what he planned to do.
