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minor gore mention

Of course Jamie had seen injury before. Jamie had seen someone's throat cut, seen their life bled out of them. This, though, was more than he'd expected from someone still alive. The smell was overwhelmingly awful, it made his eyes water, and when he made that split second decision to morph into a snowshoe hare, it only got worse.

Jamie didn't know a thing about medical magic. He didn't know a way to help Temperance and Jeremiah without getting in the way, because only so many hands could fit beneath a turned over carrel without it getting messy. There had to be something he could do, he thought. This was all he could think of.

Crawling closer to Pride, Jamie pressed his velvet nose to his leg, soon followed by the insulating warmth of his fur. Out from the shade of the carrel, he watched Kaleb, watched him coming closer, and would've smiled in empathy if he were in human form and Kaleb could actually see past his eyelids.

gore party continues

"Lord Ezra," said Pride, who was trying so ******** hard not to writhe at the pressure on him form Temperance. "He wanted my--my consent for his ******** pet project." He spat the words with as much venom as he could muster, which wasn't much at all. "I didn't--I don't know what he wanted. He. Wouldn't say, I asked."

Kaleb could track the bloom of magic as it poured off Pride. It puddled around him, failed to be reabsorbed. In some places it seemed to help; in others it glimmered caustic and green around Pride's exposed skin. If there was physical damage, the psychic was no lesser.

Pride convulsed like he needed to cough, hands scrabbling in the slippery goop of his own blood. His nails scraped the marble floors, caught and tore, until they touched the soft fur of Jamie's back. His touch abruptly gentled. It wasn't the reciprocation of pack touch. It was something odder, like contact with Jamie enabled Pride to somehow look past the pain he was in.

America could see the soft, torn edges of a gaping hole inside Pride's magic through Mr. Bitterberry's eyes. The hole needed to be tied off to stabilize the outflow of magic. Good thing America was so good with knots...

Mr. Bitterberry found a small stock of shiny jewelry, including a particularly fancy ring with plenty of sparkly blue stones. Nice.

Leaving Mr. B to hop and preen with his new Sparkle Ring, America moved up to join Temperance. "I'm gonna try to deal with the magic," she said softly, vision swapping over to Mr. B for a moment and then back again as she felt out the leak. "Tell me if it jostles at yours too much."

The memory of her attempt with Pax couldn't be avoided, a different problem but so much the same that she couldn't help a brief pang of uncertainty. But she was more used to this act and it was different. This wasn't throwing power into a void or remaking a bond with nothing to anchor either side. This was sitting at the park, with Leila and Kaleb, learning to bind, trying and failing and ultimately succeeding together.

"Kaleb," she calls out, "watch and make sure this stays steady and secure. No gaps. I don't wanna leave him looking okay just for things to turn to little dutch boys in the hour."

Doing her best to stay out of Temperance's way, America reached out with her own magic to feel out that void and begin tying off the hole in Pride's.

Mr. B moved toward Pride for the sole purpose of showing off.

It was hard to make sense of it at first, there was so much magic everywhere, it was like somewhere inside a dam had been breached and everything was just flooding out. In amongst all that, he could just barely feel Temperance's magic warm and encouraging, Jamie's small figure wrapped up in his were magic, and the pulsing bond from America and her familiar.

Still with his eyes closed, he heard his name called out.

"Y-yes!" he squeaked, feeling the added tendril of America's magic probing deep into the mess of pouring magic. He stumbled a little closer, tripping over a piece of debris and falling to his knees, still keeping his eyes closed tight. Then he crawled forward until he was next to America. He was kneeling in the puddles of magic now, but that was probably not the slick substance on his palms, or what was soaking through the knees of his jeans...

Now that he was closer he could feel what America was attempting. "If what's there isn't enough to tie it off," he offered in a nervous murmur, pulling out a thread of his own magic, leaving it ready and waiting if America needed it.

Rabbit didn't know Pride. He also wasn't much of a healer, not even on this side. So, he watched, feeling that same sense of... appropriately enough, pride... that he did whenever he watched Temperance work. He had done a handful of things right in his life, and helping her become a noble was one of them, no matter what was fated to happen here.

He stepped forward, ignoring the mess beneath his boots, and waited.

Pride nodded where he was half-curled against the overturned carrel. "Said if I didn't. Give consent he'd take it. I'm stronger than that..."

He trailed off, brown eyes closing.

"Is Pax okay," he asked.

"Oh... good," said Pride, relaxing. He said nothing else.

The gaping hole in Pride's magical self had been sealed. Now it was just a waiting game to stabilize him enough for them to tend to similarly pressing matters.