Tattered ears ripped half to hell and back perked first at the sound of disturbed ground, and her head would follow, lifting to see the man, returned. She was glad he did; she'd placed a great deal of trust in him coming back, her time, precious more than ever when one was bleeding. She wasn't sure what to think of him as he returned. His face put her at a sort of ease, cool and casual, yet lingering beneath, the feintest trace of something more. She thought he might be interesting.

Thrill seeker! You have come to the right place!

-- Have you thought of a reply?

Her eyes landed on the herbs, tucked just out of reach, placed at his own paws and though the distance was not far, the message was clear enough. Paywall! "Well..." Envy let her gaze fall to the grass in a lingering moment, before she'd spring herself back up, wincing only slightly as her haste punished her. After a brief shake, she skipped over to him, not to make any attempt for the herbs, but to circle behind him, sniff at his fur and come up around the other side, her head tilted while her stare matched his own, wide and unblinking for just a moment too long. "I'm no good at deciding." She fell back onto stormy haunches, let out a quiet huff and slipped into a tease, mischevious, a sliver of ego remained "I could tell you secrets." not that they were worth anything, but what else did she have to give but pieces of herself? "S'that good enough? I guess I could also pick the burrs from your fur.. or clean the dirt from under your nails—maybe kiss you goodnight...?" She leered inward and snickered, then winced at the sting in her neck. "...Whatever ya want.. Just.. gimme.. those." Her eyes fell again to the herbs. Pity me pity me pity me!

She should be pitied! She made her face softer, deciever that she was. A curse dressed up in muse and dripping with danger.

---

Paywall, indeed. The sliver of canine silver slunk to her paws, movements animated and fluid despite her injuries - in spite of them, it seemed. The woman danced closer, and Silvercreek arched a brow and allowed her to close the distance. She smelled sweet and floral, not what he was expecting underneath the tang of her own blood mixed with the foul musk of coyote.

She could try to snap up the flowers and run, but they both knew she'd only earn a faceful of the Silvercreek's fangs for it.

She made no move for his bargaining chip, though, only circled Silver as if sizing him up. She delicately sniffed at the fine strands of his silky coat, before meeting his eyes with her own owlish, unsettling gaze. Silver found he wasn't sure what to expect next from the sprite - but did not find that trait offputting. She was a pretty thing, he decided, although his particular taste for another individual hadn't really factored into what partners he pursued or avoided in the past. He wasn't going to be led astray or weakened by lurid scarlet eyes batting their lashes at him - or even peering into his sage irises like she was very vaguely considering what he'd look like dissected like the damn coyote.

I'm no good at deciding, the woman began. Silver hmmed evenly in his chest, acknowledging the statement but encouraging her to continue. He was sure she was not finished; she was clever, and she needed the herbs he now possessed. The waif wouldn't leave it there, and she didn't - Silvercreek's brows arched a bit more as she spoke, a mild-mannered but mischievous smirk curving at his lips.

Oh, my. Had I known what kind of thrilling menu could be summoned with the offer of a few flowers, I might have gathered a better stockpile. Her comment about secrets had visibly piqued the man's interest - he didn't need that currency to pay his way through the hell he'd found himself in once, but old habits were hard to break, and he liked having power over others. Physical was enjoyable enough - it was the gossamer spider-strings of manipulation weaving one into a trap that he'd truly excelled in the art of, though.

Decisions, decisions...What do you think of this, darling: I will tend your wounds, and then I will ask three questions. You will answer with honesty. When you have answered my questions three, little lady, we shall have no further debt to one another. The Silvercreek's eyes glinted with an unveiled glee, the contract hanging spoken into the air between them with the coiled tension of a cat about to pounce. His plumy tail curled at the end, a mild tilt to his head betraying an almost boyish playfulness amongst the otherness predatory energy he'd introduced to the moment.

Envy slipped back down to her stomach aside him, a grin toying at the edges of her jaws, fighting to remain there as the ache of seeping punctures grew more unbearable by the minute. For all she tried to do in spite of injury; she really was no paragon of pain tolerance. She'd taken a dozen spares at her ears, snapped her tail in two, one time nicked her lip and spent days whigning about it, but never had she been injured in this way, so... grievously.

A tingle ran down her spine, ice cold, and yet not of pain, it was envy Jealousy.

A feast for her eyes, were her eyes able to see the back of her neck. She would've revelled in this sort of thing provided it was on another... She craned her neck out in offering; he should've been grateful that she allowed him this pleasure, and forfeited it for herself. She didn't often do such things. Charitable little beast. Still, her focus lingered on him, the playful tease on his tongue and the glint of kindred curiosity in his eyes, soft, sage green.

Mmm....I'll answer whatever y'want. She mused as she slid closer to the earth, paws outstretched, an indifference to selling these fragments of herself.

She liked to talk. Liked to be talked to. If that meant peeling back each layer, stripping herself down to the soul, she would've done it for just a taste. But would you even know if I did lie? She murmured a soft question with a flick of her ear, not that she would've, a poor liar and one too easily prone to honesty, but she itched to taunt, to steal back little crumbs of power along the way.

She liked this game.

---

Fearless, shameless, she slid to her belly as if offering up such vulnerability didn't cross her mind as a threat.

A spike of jealously stabbed through Silver, nailing his stomach to his spine with an envious and brief fit of hate within his soul. How dare she live so free of the burdens he carried?

The sensation, vile and overwhelming, was gone as quickly as it had formed. Silvercreek brought his muzzle closer to the nape of the woman's neck, shifting his attention across her wounds. Not so serious to kill her - serious enough to slow her so something else could, though. The man lowered his jaws close to her fur, close enough for an exhale to ruffle through the silver fur not yet matted by her own blood...

When was the last time he'd touched anyone?

Silvercreek knew the answer too quickly. The last time he'd killed someone.

He blinked amidst his pausing, once, then twice. Do it. Do it, you coward. What are you waiting for? If your mother could see what you are, she'd cry until her heart split itself in twain. He shuddered in a breath, small but grounding.

Silvercreek parted his jaws, rasping his tongue across the injuries to clear any debris and excess blood so the herbs would stick where they were intended. He ignored any flinches his attentions brought, drawing away once he was satisfied but pausing before he began to chew the herb cocktail he'd gathered.

Would you even know if I did lie? Silvercreek chuckled once; a cold hnph and nothing more. He liked this one.

I wouldn't know; but I might suspect. Are you a bold enough gambler to chance I buy your bluff instead of taking what I am owed? Silvercreek dipped his head gracefully, pulling the herbs apart with his teeth and paws until he could chew them into a suitable paste. They would help prevent infection, speed healing, and keep the wounds less open to the elements. There were no guarantees, not without a skilled healer with a vast cache and many days to devote to their craft. But it would do.

He moved closer, breath on the back of her neck. She should've been nervous. The last jaws to breathe down her neck found a home for their teeth there. She was reminded, in a single fleeting moment and even still, it wasn't quite fear. Her muscles tensed, ready to erupt, her lips lifted to uncloak pearly canines if only for that brief second before the tension faded. It wasn't even him. It was that fight that had reared its head once more, anticipatory, if not a little eager. She looked to his paws if only to remind herself who stood above her.

She might've become a wild animal, ripped at his face. Logic overpowered.

The wretch sat still for most of it, no stranger to this process; she knew how she liked her patients, so it was only right to practice as she preached. Even so, she couldn't suppress the few winces she did let out when his tongue washed over the deepest wounds. In some perverse manner, she found it a little thrilling; enough to let out a quiet giggle, as if it were ticklish rather than searing. When he moved to prepare the herbs, she shook her neck out a little, even gave him a quick look as he went.

She wondered how her blood tasted on his tongue. Was it sweet or was it foul?

Was it similar to what she had tasted? She hoped not.

"Maaaybe." She answered his query with a shrug, sweeping her hind legs out from under herself to lay sideways. "Guess you'll hafta' find out."

---

They fell into a not-so-companionable silence as Silver chewed the gathered herbs into a paste. He grimaced at the overpowering taste, but a deal was a deal.

Such folly had led him into hell for years, but he was free now. But still beholden to his word. Some things never changed.

Even if he could never reclaim the boy he'd been, he had his word as his bond. Silver twitched an ear, pressing the paste to the deepest wounds first before moving with the remnants to the shallower punctures or lacerations. The waif shifted, splaying her hind legs out and her porcelain belly revealed itself beneath the Silvercreek's looming form. He pulled his head away, glancing down briefly before skimming his gaze up to catch her crimson gaze. Like a blood moon, she stared at him, defiant mirth glinting in his visage.

His tongue snaked across his maw, sweeping away the last dredges of the healing mixture from where it'd stained his pale sterling fur. And so I shall.

A deal was a deal. Silver settled his haunches into the snow, curling his tail around him. My first question: What did you hope to gain from.... A sly glance at the jutting corpse still laying not far from the pair. Mauling that coyote?

Sue him, he was curious.

Envy crossed pearly forelegs across one-another, her gaze trailing back to that unfortunate little beastie she'd dispatched. A deceivingly gentle huff leaving her jaws.

"Well usually I like to test on em'. Poisons, experimental methods, stuff you shouldn't do on real patients." She cleared the air, she didn't usually just kill them for no reason! She wasn't cruel, not like her sister, not like others. She simply took the necessary strides needed for advancement, even if they were unappealing to most. "ya know if you break a fox's legs, they'll start biting at anything in front of their jaws. Makes it easy to shove things in them." She speaks with an almost comedic touch, as if she was sharing an innocent tip with a fellow scholar.

He asked for honesty, after all, and Envy almost wished to make him regret it. What a fun little game. Next came her depraved admission, a genuine glimmer of shame passing over her expression. "But not this one. I just wanted to kill something. I was... mad." Her head turned, gaze averted, a childish pout on her lip. "So i guess... nothing. Made me feel better, though."

What a waste. this was what brought her shame, not the action itself.