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 Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2011 9:37 am
 The sun's rays crept across the forest floor as dawn began to set in. They fell upon the battered body of a small mare whose mind was trapped in the dark oblivion of unconsciousness, far from the rays' comforting warmth. With each wheezing breath the battered mare took, her chest shuddered, upsetting the wounds that marred it.
Trickles of blood continued to leak from the deep claw marks upon her chest, most of the flow having been staunched by the dirt that now caked it. The blood mingled with her white fur, drying in brown clumps and staining some of it pink. The nasty bite wound on the upper thigh of her back right leg was in close to the same state, but the pinking of the skin around the wound indicated an infection beginning to settle in.
Those were but the worst of her wounds. Small cuts and bruises covered the mares body, and her left front leg could very well be fractured, at the least sprained. And her body, not used to such physical activity, had been pressed well beyond its limit during her fear filled sprint through the woods. Even when she wakens, it would be to weak to hold her up for long.
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 6:03 pm
There was something wrong with the forest this morning, Giolladhe noted uneasily as he walked along a familiar path. Not immediately or obviously different, as it would need to be for the blind stallion to be able to tell with his handicap. There was a certain, quiet or stillness. At least, that was what he was able to tell. But there wasn't any reason for it that he could tell, and that, more than anything made him rather nervous.
Around the same time his familiar gasped, he first noted the strong scent of iron on the air. His nostrils flared at the smell. Someone or something had been very badly hurt, if the amount of blood that needed to be shed for such a strong scent was indicative, hurt or dead depending.
There were times his handicap was more than a pain to deal with, and this was definately one of them. If only he could see to find where it was coming from. He would have a better idea of whether or not he could do something. He turned to the side where he felt his familiar. "Vali..."
"Not to worry, lad, I'm on it." Bright eyes scanned the forest on either side of the trail they were on. The tenderhearted goat nearly overlooked the tiny mare, barely able to tell she was a living creature under the filth and clotting blood.
She gasped. "Oh the poor thing," she murmured softly under her breath, taking a few steps off the path before turning to the stallion. " It's a mare, flutter by the looks of her. Well, at least what I can tell, given the extent of some of these wounds."
She shook her head in wonder. " I'm surprised the poor mite is still alive, she must be in agony...."
Giolladhe snorted, waiting impatiently for the goat to remember her purpose and let him know precisely where she so he could make his way over, and hopefully manage to do ...something, no matter how small.
It seemed like forever before the familiar realised what he was waiting for, and she returned to guide him over to the fallen form.
Though his racially inherited healing talents were rather meagre, he was able to use them to heal small injuries and to 'diagnose' others. And given the smell of the fresh blood, along with the alarming amount that had already been spilt, one of the first things it was important to address was staunching the blood flow. Luckily, that was something he could do, though the energy it required would cost him dear. But there was nothing else for it.
Sending the familiar off to gather a few herbs that would be useful, once he stopped the flow of blood, and would get her out from underhoof, the unicorn set out to start healing the unconscious being.
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Posted: Wed Apr 27, 2011 9:03 am
Rapid movement was the first sign that battered mare was beginning to awaken, her all green eyes searching the black she currently resided in. Tendrils of consciousness reached into the black to try and wrap around just what had happened. Where was she? What had happened? When those tendrils of thought wrapped around the answers, they also found the pain she had been numb to her in her unconscious state.
Unbidden, her lips parted to let out a sound of pain. Her lungs expanded as she desperately sucked in air, hoping for the pain to go away. But no, it just got worse. It felt like no matter what she did or how minute the movement- a slight twitching of injured and exhausted legs or the expanding and deflating of her chest- an explosion of pain would follow. Tears of pain began to slip through the cracks of her clenched shut eyes to travel down her cheeks.
She hated the pain, an yet, she also welcomed it. It meant she was alive. That as she drifted in that world of numbness and black, the Skinwalker had not come back to finish the job. Already she could hear the worried voice of her mother and sister, and her father chastising her, when they hear about what had taken place just the night before. How she'd stupidly let herself get into this mess. And Hania, mate to her childhood friend and self appointed protector, would never let her out of his sight again.
She almost wanted to laugh at herself. Almost.
If Dominica would have been paying attention to the various scents flooding her nostrils instead of allowing her thoughts to wander, she'd have noticed the scents of others in the air. The scents of those who'd cared for her as she laid unconscious. She'd have been prepared for what she was about to find as she cracked open a single green eye.
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Posted: Mon May 02, 2011 11:54 am
“Vale, I need you to help me put this paste on the worst of the wounds.”Giolladhe muttered to his familiar, knowing that she would be able to help him, so he could focus all his attention on just what he was doing. It had been a long, long time since he had had to use the meager knowledge of healing that he had, so he prayed that he was doing this right.
He had managed to remove the worst of the debris covering the wounds, though in so doing he had caused some of the partially staunched wounds to reopen, blood flowing sluggishly. He cursed softly. She could not afford to lose anymore blood. So he, with the help of Valencianna, used his horn to heal the gouges, only closing them so as not to use any more energy than he absolutely had to. As it was, what little he had done had taxed his strength almost more than he could afford. Hence the herbal paste to prevent infection in her leg, so he could concentrate all his efforts on the chest wounds which were the most life-threatening injury she had.
With each shaky inhalation, he winced in sympathy. Her breathing… was not good. He racked his memory trying to remember if there was an herb that would help with that. At least, enough to help so he could do the more delicate work with his inherited gifts.
Unable to bear the silence as he worked, he started to voice his thoughts and theories, not noticing when the mare started to regain consciousness.
“You must have gone through a scuffle with an angry wildcat or something, by the feel of these claw marks. Just what happened to you? You’re lucky to still be alive with the amount of blood you lost. There is still a risk that you could…. Infection is something you’ll need to look out for. What were you doing out here anyway…”
Instinctively, he kept his voice soft and soothing, all throughout his monologue.
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2011 9:53 am
It was the stallion's voice that told Dominica of his presence, the light sending her cracked open eye back into closed state before she could catch sight of her savior. Like a balm, the tone of his voice wrapped around her frightened mind and for the moment, soothing it. Thoughts of her father once more rose to the surface, and past and present blurred. It was no longer a stranger talking to her, but her father. She'd fallen and scraped a knee again, and he was there to chase away her tears with comforting words while cleansing the scrape. Her mother and sister would be off to the side, concerned, but not wanting to crowd her.
She could be such a klutz.
But that scent, it was not her father's. And while the tone matched, the voice itself. A pitiful whimper escaped her as she tried to wish for what she'd fabricated within her mind to be made into reality. She wanted her family, not a stranger. But this stranger was all she had at the moment. And like it or not, her life was in his hands.
"I..."
She fell back into silence at the sound of her own voice. So weak and raspy, had that really come from her. She cleared her throat, but her voice refused to return to normal just yet. Like her body, it needed time to recover from the ordeal. "W-who are you?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 1:38 pm
He could feel the mare flinch as she slowly came to, and the pained whimper. He could sympathise. He did not envy her the pain he knew she must be feeling, though he had done his best with the herbs he had on hand as well as his limited knowledge of healing to ease the pain as much as he could.
“Vale, I need you to find some white willow bark, alright?”He tossed the words over his shoulder where he could feel his familiar waiting, focusing completely on the task before him. He knew that though it would be bitter, it would help take the edge off the pain, especially since she was now awake and able to take part in the healing.
“Hey now, take it easy. You are in rather bad shape. You were near death when Vale and I found you.” He spoke directly to the little mare. “I’ve managed to stop the bleeding of the wounds on your chest, and cleaned them, so there is less chance of infection, but only if you don’t open them back up.”
He ignored her question at first in the interest of impressing on her the gravity of her wounds and letting her know just how dire her situation could still be. “ I just sent my familiar to get something to help with the pain. And I need you to tell me a bit more about your state. What hurts the worst? What caused the wounds? Do you live around here?”
The arrival of his familiar at his side stemmed the flow of questions. “Vale, here has some bark for the pain. You are to chew it, not swallow. It probably won’t do a whole lot more than just take the edge off, but that is better than nothing. Once I’ve recovered a bit more of my energy, I’ll be able to do more for you.”
He wavered on his feet, the exhaustion from what he had done was finally taking it’s toll on his body. “My name is Gio, by the way.” He managed before he fell, not asleep, nor unconscious but somewhere between.
“Tha’ silly, young’un. He knows better than to task his strength so.” The brightly colored goat walked over to her charge to make sure he was alright before cautiously approaching the injured mare. She dropped the bark near her mouth. “Here now. Chew this fer a bit. It’ll help until the stubborn one over there is able to do more for ya. And do try to stay still. We wouldn’t want you to open those wounds back up now then would we?” She paused to take a breath. “Try an’ get a bit o’ rest. You’re gonna need it.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2011 12:54 pm
Obeidently, Dominica went still. She tried to keep her attention on the stallion to avoid seeing the the gravity of her wounds for herself. She didn't want to see them, to see how bad she looked. But as the stallions words washed over her, her gaze began to wander. It roamed over the deep wound in her a chest, which hitched in a choked sound of distress. Falling quiet once more, she took in the other various cuts and bruises, and then finally it came to the bite in her thigh. What would her father say if he could see her now?
She ripped her gaze away from her wounds, swallowing while trying to find words to answer the stallion's questions. "I d-don't know, it just... hurts."
Her antennae curled before she forced herself to continue. "I live across two meadows and a forest."
She intended to continue, but as the stallion fell, she could only get out a choked noise of alarm. He didn't seem to be injured when he spoke to her, so what had happened? Perhaps more bizarre then the sudden collapse was the source of the answer to her unspoken question. A goat, a talking goat.
She'd heard stories of such animals, those called familiars. But she had never met one before today. A tiny smile tugged at her lips, she could not wait to tell Aisha about this.
"I-I see." The bark didn't look to tantalizing, but if these two were healers as they seemed, then she should listen. "I... Thank you for your kindness."
Carefully, the mare took the bark into her mouth. Crushing it with her teeth as she allowed her heard to rest on the grass. Rest sounded like a real good idea right now.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2011 2:20 pm
At the choked noise of alarm, Gio opened an eye. It probably wasn't a reassuring thing to see, one's healer simply falling as he had done, and he sighed slightly as he got back to his hooves. It would probably be better if he finished what he was doing before replenshing his energy. He had started this, so there was no question as to whether or not he would finish. The only question was what shape he would be in at the end.
There was little more he could do with his meagre capabilities, but he could probably make it so her injuries were well enough to make the journey back to her home, provided there were no accidents. He should be able to guard her long enough to get her where she belonged.
Returning to the dainty mare's side, he requested Vale's help to check the injuries once more, requiring her sight to guide horn and thus his powers where they were needed most.
Once her most worrisome injuries were knitted enough, he pulled back slightly. 'That's the best I can do. It should hold as far as your home, so long as you are careful and don't have any mishaps.'
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