the healing of a nation

Setting: Morning, dark clouds and light drizzle.


On her first night in Nomad's Pass she had passed out with willow bark still in her mouth. The alcove that housed the meagre herb supplies for the pack had been as good of a place as any to fall asleep, and this proved true for last night as well. However, waking up in the musty den that morning, Lyr was strangely discontented.

Willow bark and goldenrod would not be enough to heal all the injuries one could get on the mountain - Lyr knew first hand how dangerous a simple slip of the foot could be. She had worked hard to heal Borlla after her unfortunate trip up and down the mountain, and still her own head throbbed every now and then. Her wounds were healing fine though, and with proper food in her stomach Lyr almost felt... satisfied.

But maybe her neurosis surrounding living with others was coming out, as she found herself fidgeting as she examined the alcove. It was only big enough for the current dwindling supplies it held. It was fine for her to sleep in as she didn't want to take up too much space in the pack (she kept saying to herself she'd leave on the morrow), but as a place to keep herb supplies it was too small. As she lay, still waking from her dreams, she imagined what sort of things a mountain pack would need. She daydreamed about the herbs needed for colds, remembering being taught how fireweed could stop a cold in its steps - something about vitamins. These thoughts were enough to spur her into action. Her climb down the mountain had been much more careful that her climb up. It was her first time leaving the Pass since @Naira had welcomed her to her pack. She had kept to the shadows mostly so far, and it was good to get away from other wolves, at least for a little while.

When she returned she brought not only the fireweed but also a few other things she'd picked up in the drowning meadows. Her mouth was full with leaves and stalks. If only she'd had a helper, she could have brought back so much more! As she skulked through the camp towards the birthing den and the alcove, she let her eyes wander along the rock face at the other dens. To get a better look, she left the side of the rock and walked out into the open. She placed her bundle down and scanned the rock for something that would be big enough to store all that she had brought. The pungent scent of her package brought a sneeze to her nose which must have awoke the rest of the pack.


ooc: Time to make Lyr useful! @Mapplethorpe and/or @Naira to discuss a potential medic position! -flails hands excitedly- :3

(This post was last modified: Oct 10, 2013, 07:59 PM by Lyr.)

Lyr was one of the wolves Mapplethorpe had only vaguely scented along the scattered foliage that still weathered the harshness of the Pass. Either the woman seemed to be evasive or the grizzled man was simply too busy to stop what he was doing and take a look around. The Queen's Consort assumed the former; he had yet to see her share the darkness of the pack's communal den. In the gray ambient light that filtered into the den, he nuzzled his head nose to Naira's ear and Aponi and Nova's foreheads in turn before leaving the den.

Down the gently sloping hill he went and one of the first places he had opted to check was Naira's old birthing den, which followed through with his mental checklist from a few days before. The rain had not let up and it seemed that even some of the mud depressions here and there had filled up with rainwater to become decent-sized, wrist-deep puddles. Halfway towards his destination he had to stop and shake his head in order to spare his inner-ears of water and the chill of the storm that came with it. He snorted, his mottled frame quaking from his shoulders to the tip of his tail before growing still again. Within moments, the droplets that had been shed were put back into the thick of his pelt by the downpour. At least for today, the spell of rain had become more of a drizzle than an unrelenting torrent.

The sound of a sneeze easily came to his eardrums, the noise much too different and off-beat to blend in with the rhythm of raindrops touching down into the earth. He made a round about the old stone den but ultimately stood out in front of it in the open where the tall grasses had wilted to only come up to his elbows. A twitch of his nose and the flaring of his nostrils brought the familiar scent of wet herbs to his senses and in pinpointing its location he was able to lay eyes on the side of a distinctly-marked individual, yet another Nomad he had not yet met.

He took one step in her direction and stopped, all too suddenly interested in what she was up to with a mouthful of plants. "Subordinate!" he hailed her with a deep and heedful bark, hoping to ensnare her full attention. "Where are you going?"

"Subordinate!"

The voice behind her was a new one, and the words were such only someone of authority could speak. Lyr immediately froze, a wash of panic falling over her before turning to face the source of the noise. Part of her was deeply annoyed at being called a subordinate, but she supposed it was true. She was tempted to bark back her name, but when she saw who it came from the notion died quickly. Golden yellow eyes were on her, with thick distinguishable markings beneath. He must have been Mapplethorpe, the other alpha Chulyin had warned her about. She had been warned about Naira as well, but she had greeted her easily and in a friendly manner. Perhaps Mapplethorpe would be friendly as well? "Where are you going?" he said in a brusque manner.

Lyr was still frozen in her tracks, unsure of how to respond. Immediately she averted her eyes. The action had pleased Naira well enough, but she wondered how to act around him. This was a very awkward way to meet. "I-" she began, and was cut off by a leaf stuck to the top of her mouth. She coughed and spat it out in a manner she hoped came across as graceful and dainty. "To replenish the stocks," she finally got out, sounding a bit mechanical. "Most of the current supply I've used up on me," she explained guiltily above the sound of rain, bending her head a little to give him a view of the clean wound atop her skull. She then paused and waited for him to say something. She wondered if he would question her herb choices, or if he even knew a thing about the smelly leaves before her feet. Perhaps he was right to question her motives - for all he knew she was a stranger sneaking in poison.

(This post was last modified: Oct 11, 2013, 07:26 PM by Lyr.)

The woman stopped, much to his satisfaction, and in drawing a few steps closer was able to discern and put to memory the pattern of her coat and the color of her eyes. Even as she looked away, he still stared into her face, scrutinizing both her form and the collection of plants she had carried with her into the Pass. "I--" she had started. Mapplethorpe tilted his head curiously to one side, eager to hear what she had to say as to also memorize the tone that made up her voice. A leaf came tumbling from her mouth but the masked male did nothing to judge, belittle, or ridicule her as she coughed.

"To replenish the stocks. Most of the current supply I've used up on me."

Well, now... that right there was an answer he had wholly anticipated, but the manner in which she had responded caught him by surprise. There seemed to be purpose beneath her words aside from the apparent remorse which was further exaggerated by the lowering of her head. The sight of the wound atop her skull spoke to him on another level, though, and the questions he had mentally prepared in regards to why she had used up the few herbs the pack had accrued were all whisked away. If anything, he had to appreciate what she was doing... the whole take-and-give or give-and-take sort of deal. It seemed rarer now these days to find a subordinate who was doing their job or at least giving back to the pack that had taken them in.

"I see," he answered once he was through examining the damp fur atop her skull. He paused just long enough to examine her further before turning his attention to the greenery she had brought. "The purposefulness in your actions are apparent, your capacity to be respectful is admirable, and your knack thoughtfulness quite appreciated..." He couldn't help but crack a smile as he added, "Those stalks must be bitter. Goodness help me if I need to stomach some of it with the quick weather changes we've been having."

If she knew what he was commenting about in the latter part of his remark, he hoped she would pick up on the fact that he had identified the plant. Apart from @Naira - and occasionally @Sagacity - Mapplethorpe had never seen another pack member with herbs between their teeth.

In tipping his skull back into its rightful angle, he eyed her in a coy manner, effortlessly changing the topic in attempt to see just how well she would perform for him. "Stand up straight and tell me your name... where you're from and how you managed to scavenge Fireweed on this side of the mountain. I have never seen a leaf nor stem of it around these parts."