she should scold him for having taken so long, for leaving her to wait in the dark. but she does not, for the sight of his trembling shoulders gives her pause. she creeps to his side, belly low, and presses her nose to his shoulder. he need not tell her what happened, how his wounds came to be. she knows, and that is enough.

ghelan, let me see your wounds. please. he is bleeding, and his breath comes in shallow, gasping whines. she cannot help him if he falls unconscious, needs his guiding hand.

please, tell me what to do.

SKILL herbalist 3/5

---

tremors shake through the boy, jolting when the wet tip of ishmira's nose presses into him. there's a tenderness to her that he cannot resist, though. the boy turns to her, hesitantly. his wound burns a raging red, pain piercing from his head all the way down to his fingers. blood paints the dry blades of yellowed grass. he still bled, and he bled heavily.
the herbs, he mumbles, lips trembling. and something, to clot this. ghelan doesn't need to gesture to her where he meant. all of the adrenaline that shielded him from feeling the ache of his muscles was drained when his eye was stolen. soon, he collapses. the world spins around him, and with his one eye he gazes at the sky. and for a moment, he sees the spirits.

she knows precious little, recipes from her time 'neath morwenna's tending hand. she gathers the herbs in her jaws, drops them at ghelan's feet with a panicked rush of breath. if only she could recall what was done to tend her own wound, the one at her neck. but memory does not serve her, not when so much blood was lost and so many bodies moved to save her.

yarrow she recognizes, crushes as quickly as she can into a fine powder. before she can reach him, however, he is falling. falling, falling, falling, striking the ground with a rough thud. and there is no time to cry for him. she cups his cheek with a hand, firm, and pushes the powder into bloodied eye socket. his jaws part, paws thrash, and her heart aches at causing him such pain, but she does not stop, holding consistent pressure until the flow of crimson slows. all the while she is apologizing, holding him still and grimacing all the while.

then, gently, ice between them melted, ghelan, the herbs. do you...need to eat any of them?

ishmira sharply ground him when she presses herbs against his wounds. pain spread like wildfire as if ishmira had ignited it herself. he clenches teeth to bare through it all, though. he knew what his father was capable of, he knew it very well.

he remembered seeing the nest that fateful day, when he returned from herb gathering for star eater. he remembered well the blood on the snow, the squealing of the lone pup when there had been three others with him, that now howled for his exhile. he remembered father's insistence of betrayal, that they'd been betrayed by his third wife. and he remembers the doubt that kept akiak behind from the rest of the saatsine.

yes... m-maybe. he doesn't know. morwenna nor anyone else hadn't gotten the chance to teach him. he knew how to search for herbs, how to dig them out, but not anything about how to apply them. i don't know. i'll be fine.. ghelan, hissing, swats at her hands before they worsened his pain.

she removes her paw from his wound, but the other holds his face firm a second longer. eyes of ice scold him in silence for his foolishness, if only to conceal her worry. then she turns to the pile of leaves, nosing them gently to decipher which is which. after some consideration, she pushes a few toward him, confident in her choice, and a growl catches in her throat as he squirms away.

you are not fine. eat. and gods, she doesn't envy him. they smell awful, and she will pry his jaws open if she must. only when he acknowledges the medicine does she let go, allowing him the space he so desperately requests from her. his wounds are deep, grave, and there is no doubt they will scar. whoever did this to him— and in her heart, she knows only sun eater could have done so— they meant to maim. to punish.

you have lost a lot of blood. rest now, and i will keep watch.

she's firm with him. she growls at him to keep still but between the other half of the world he'd lost and the one he could still see, she stood in the middle, hovering close. he could see the pity in her eyes. and the boy softens, unable to fight her on eating the medicine. she knew more than he did, clearly.

the last of akiak's thoughts protest and hesitate ishmira's determination to play guard — not because he didn't believe that she could — but because they were still only just two. should saatsine decide to finish what they'd started, even with the few that remained that could fight there wasn't much that the two of them could do but run.
the rest of akiak though could not have stayed awake even if he tried. immediately sinking in his bed of dirt, his one eye watched ishmira leave his side. but rest soon. he's garbled by exhaustion. when his eye closes, its not long until his breath steadies and he drifts off like following the flow of a river.