For @Rook - though others are welcome if interested.
Never did Veho think it would be necessary to barricade his medical cache against invaders. In the months he had resided among the wolves of Grizzly Hollow, his collection of herbs was generally left unbothered – only @Titan appeared on occasion to add his own supplies, or take something he needed. If any other wolf stopped by, they did not touch or take, simply allowed the healers to attend to their needs before moving on. So when he found the entrance of his burrow dug and mussed, it was an unthinkable peripeteia. The stems fell from his mouth as the wolf rushed forward, heart in his throat as he barreled into his den. His first thought was that someone had been horribly injured, and finding no healer at the medical den, had dug through the piles in a panicked frenzy, seeking anything to stop the pain.
Upon realizing there was no blood on the ground, and no scent of illness in the air, it gave the Macieo pause, and for a moment, he paused at the entrance. The claw marks were far too small to belong to a fellow wolf – perhaps a pup? But if something had befallen Tomen, the man was certain that Rook, or perhaps even Quil, would have put up a call for one of the two aspiring healers residing among their ranks. He’d not been so far from the Cedarwood Forest that he’d not have detected a frantic howl, and Veho felt fairly certain it was not harm befalling a curious puppy. Thus the invader went unknown, and something foreign stoked a fire in his chest as the silver male forced his way inwards – and promptly came face-to-face with the perpetrator.
A vicious growl caught the wolf’s throat – normally a passive soul, he could not abide by the nature of this thief, chewing its way through a collection that had taken him weeks, if not months, to prepare, carefully selected during the growing seasons and dried, so they might be preserved for the coming cold months. When everything was buried in a thick blanket and the landscape had become a frozen wasteland, those dried herbs would be the mainstay of his healing practices – even if they were less effective when they were no longer fresh, it was better than no supplies at all. And here, a single porcupine had made himself at home. In the course of only a few casual hours, he’d destroyed countless weeks of the wolf’s work – it was almost a suffocating, helpless feeling, and from such sadness was born an unholy rage.
Veho’s snarl only earned him a dry look – over his shoulder did the porcupine glance, a dried leaf disappearing behind large teeth. For what would he do, the oversized rodent seemed to beg the question, unconcerned that he was caught red-handed and otherwise cornered in a den with no way out save the opening the medic was currently shoved in. The nonchalance was perhaps the tipping point, driving another snarl out of the delta male as he wriggled his way in further. Never did it occur to him that such close quarters with such a well-armed adversary may be a poor choice – all he could think was that he must get the alien out as soon as he could, salvaging whatever was left of his carefully equipped den before cataloguing the damage. It would be a race to restock the medical cabinet before the winter winds forced everything into a prolonged sleep.
This time, the thorn swine gave the predator a much more baleful look, turning some from its feast with an aggravated grunt. Further grumbles poured from its mouth as it waddled closer, body size doubling as the quills began to stand on end, appearing as menacing as was possible for such a stumpy creature. Perhaps the wolf should have been put off, if not by the massive teeth and aggressive posture, than by the quivering quills presented at him. They rattled loudly, his ears ringing, and Veho proceeded regardless, his ivory teeth bared as he plunged for the animal’s face. Immediately he was met with teeth and it was blood for blood, the pair scrambling in the small space for purchase. Once, twice, three times he tried to shove his sienna snout underneath the animal, knowing its undercarriage to lack the armor the rest of its body bore, and all three efforts were met with the sharp jab of pins into his thin skin. It was only by the grace of the Ancestors that he did not take a needle directly to one of his pale eye – the heat of battle, the adrenaline brought on by aggravation and desperation muted the pain and he plunged onwards again. On his fourth attempt, he was able to spin the porcupine upside down, and only once it had been forced on its backside was the medic able to get in a biting blow. Never one for violence, the grey wolf did not wish to prolong its suffering, and the mess of blood was met with another bite and a shake of his head. This time, the struggle ended, and the male was allowed to drag the animal from his den in piece, pulling the body several lengths away before dropping it there. It was also left several lengths from the water, as death would poison their resource, and only then did Veho wander back to his cache.
One paw was lifted gingerly, brushing against the needles sticking outwards from his muzzle. His effort was met with a sharp whine and a wince, finally realizing how badly the attack had actually hurt. These quills were not thorns, instead lodged into his flesh with tiny barbs, and would not be dislodged so easily. He would need assistance. After a moment of thought, Veho put up a warbling howl, directed for the alpha. If Titan was about, he would not mind the other healer’s presence, or assistance even, but the situation was otherwise embarrassing enough that he did not wish to actually invite the others to see their medic in such a state.