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 Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 6:52 am
 
This is a PRP between Phail Ninja's Bear and CitrusCupcake's Radha.
General warning: severely injured pony within, don't read if that makes you squeamish!
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 7:09 am
Bear lay still in the middle of the clearing. All the strength had left her. At first she had screamed. And shrieked. And cried. But that had faded to pained whimpering, her throat raw and dry and unable to make any louder noises. But even that had faded to silence with time...
Half-dried blood matted her fur, crystallising it into a dense mangle of hairs. No space of her remained unscathed. It spattered her legs, her tail, her face. Her entire jaw was covered in it. And still deep gashes on her flank oozed out more blood, the wounds angry and red. Zar'roc had done his job thoroughly. As more and more of the red liquid pooled beneath her, the filly could feel herself getting weaker. Already a numbing cold was gripping her. She had no strength, no energy to do anything. Not stem the bleeding, not try to bandage her wounds, not even raise her head to look at them.
She dared not move, she lay completely still. Lightning stabbed through her pelt as the wind picked at her flesh, but that was bearable. She could grit her teeth and lay down through it. What she feared the most was moving her paw. The 'walker had crushed it to pieces. And if she even twitched that she knew she would scream. She would scream from the pain even if she was already dead. The white hot agony would shoot up her leg, so bad it forced her to black out. Bear had already fallen in and out of consciousness several times.
She closed her eyes, silent tears tracing down her cheek, and begged for death.
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 7:47 am
Radha muttered quietly to herself, going through the list of plants she had to gather that day.
"Bergamot.." she said, mentally trying to work out how much she should need. It was a good plant for making into a poultice and putting on wounds. So it was something that she tried to always have in her stash of herbs and in the bag she took with her when she was visiting someone that needed healing.
"Comfrey."
Another plant that had a variety of uses but she used it sparingly, and only as a compress.
"Elderberries." the fruit was good for pain and infections, so she gathered it as much as possible, but it might yet be too early in the year for there to be much fruit available, and so she riffled through her inner encyclopedia for something else as she walked. She realised then she had slightly veered from her path and it was whilst she was looking around to see where she had drifted to that she caught sight of the wheeling and calling carrion birds in the near distance.
Were they circling a fresh kill, or something older? There was a part of her healing art that might be considered slightly disturbing by some, but she used dried animal hide and even sinews and gut that she treated to make sutures for cuts, and so if she found remains that were fresh enough and only being eaten by birds she would take what she needed. It was bloody work but once made, the sutures worked well.
As she headed in the direction of the circling birds, she saw that the mass on the ground, and as she drew closer she caught the scent of the blood and her hoofsteps became hurried as she realised that there was a chance that this was a potential patient and not a corpse. She neighed loudly at a crow that was hopping close, stooping, picking up a rock with her mouth and flicking it at the ground by the bird, causing it to take off again in a flurry of feathers and angry cawing.
She knelt in the blood soaked ground, trying to seperate the wounds visually from the dirt and blood that had smeared on the small body and leant in with her head, pressing her nose under the head and into the jaw, closing her eyes and concentrating. Quiet. quiet..and there it was, a tiny, thready pulse against the skin of her nose and she moved automatically, shrugging off the bag that had been dangling around her neck, flicking it open and giving it a practiced shake so that the herbs she had left in there shook out onto the flap and not on the ground.
"Can you hear me?" she said, her eyes flickering across the small body, trying to work out which was the worst wound and which should get her attention first. She gave a short tug to the pelt over the foal, trying to see if it was covering something worse than that which she could see before going back to mushing and pasting some soft moss into the bit of bergamot she still had so she could try to stop the bleeding.
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Posted: Thu Feb 18, 2016 6:17 pm
Bear lay absolutely still, too weak to even whimper anymore. Carrion crows were circling over her small body, waiting for the final breath to escape out of her. Some of the braver ones darted forwards, trying to peck at her exposed wounds. Meat. They were meat on sticks. And the meat was eating her. This was wrong. Bear knew that, yet she could do nothing. Her strength was too low. She couldn’t even turn her head to snap at them. Desperation clawed through her, but she dared not move. At least this way she might fade out of existence, with naught more pain than the occasional peck of a sharp beak. But if she moved? Then that blinding agony would shoot through her again, burning her alive. No, she dared not move. She barely dared to breathe. She couldn’t risk that searing torment, it was a painful death, a scorching death, a death she wished on everyone but herself.
A coldness was slowly trickling into her body. The ground she lay on seemed to sap away at her body heat, draining what little strength she had. Numbness was setting in as the blood-loss grew steadily worse. With each weak flutter of her heart, more and more of it pooled out from her side. The surface had begun to scab over, and yet it couldn’t quite stem the flow of the fresh blood. The chill was worming its way up into her, slowly making its way to the very core of her body. Soon it would fill her, soon she would be nothing but a cold husk of a body. And she’d thought that she was being so clever.
So clever to stalk the other purewalker. So clever to steal his kill. A trap. It had all been a trap. Bear wanted to tear him limb from limb. No. That would be too pleasant. She wanted him to lie on the cold ground, just like this. She wanted to stand there and watch him slowly bleed out. She wanted to step on his broken paw, to hear him scream. And scream. And scream. There could be nothing more beautiful in this world than to see him suffer. It was these thoughts, and these alone, that kept her mind together, that kept her from drifting too far into the realm of death. For if she truly wished to slip away, all she had to do was let go now.
Though her blood-raged thoughts and the numbness that filled her senses, Bear wasn’t even aware of the mare that approached her. She couldn’t see her, couldn’t hear her. Not until she pulled at her pelt and the tugging made Bear notice that she was moving slightly. She didn’t remember moving, but she was sure her body was shifting slightly of its own accord. How weird, she briefly contemplated, too delusional to realise there was another being standing next to her – another being trying to save her life.
CitrusCupcake OKAY TAGGING ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING BECAUSE RP MANIA. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OTL Already tagged the Qing/Pixarella RP, will tag the Marut/Casper one soon <3 For information, this is what I originally wrote Bear's wounds were: Deep scratches across her flank, especially around her pelt. Multiple bruises of varying severities (around her joints/back). Torn out claws on her paws. One heavily fractured/broken paw that will need setting into place so it can heal. Plus general malnutrition from being hungry for so long.
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