Perhaps changed most of all out of all of the packs is this place. It was stripped out of its forested home and now instead lays at the edge of an ocean. The vast sparkling eternity of the water lays to the south of the land, while the rest of the land is made of rocky outjuttings. Gone are the trees, and all that remains for greenery are the short shrubs that dot the paths in the rock, and the moss that grows thanks to the spray of the waves. Further toward the shore, barnacles are a plenty, and look to cut the pads of those who slip on the wet surface. These extend out into the water itself, and the tough land has multiple caverns scraped into it, providing ample dens for the wolves that live there. Depending on the tide, however, the lower caverns may flood, and the vicious swirling water may prove to be dangerous as there is a strong undertide ready to pull unsuspecting swimmers to their doom. Even the tide itself is powerful enough to push intruders against one cliff or another. The ocean does provide, however, plenty of food for those who brave the waters - there are many breeds of seals and sea lions, though the males that protect each of these are vicious and territorial. There are also turtles that come ashore to breed and to lay their eggs - both the adults and the eggs themselves can provide sustenance to the wolves. But they must take care - the water is deep enough to allow sharks to come to shore from the depths below. Those unwilling to venture the waves or wet their paws with the moist sand of the shore can find snakes and hares in the rocky outcroppings, but they must beware the Komodo dragon and other monitor lizards that perch upon the shore - they are swift and move in groups, not to mention they carry venom in their bite that causes immense pain, paralysis, and prevents blood clotting. This is not the land for the weak of heart or the weak at all really. This is Uyaraut - ‘The Diamond in the Rough’.


My heart yet pumps, the poison draught of you

Hellene had nodded at Dakota’s word and raised her brow, smirking at him even as she turned away from him to tend to Rodan. “I am glad that you have so little faith in the healer that you are placing your lives in that you think I cannot tell who needs help the most. If you wish to be of worth, clean each other wounds, nothing more. Bears are dirty things with dirty claws, I want your wounds fresh and bleeding to push out any infection that may be trying to take root.” Her vocals were coarse, rough, and commanding – they did not leave room for comment or question.

Dante had spoken to her teasingly and Nimueh smiled at her deftly, her tongue slipping between her lips to wetten them. “I will lick you, if you will lick me, darling.” Nimueh gladly moved to Dante’s side – for the Queen, as stated, was the most important of them all and needed to be cared for first – and began to tend to her wounds, cleaning them tenderly. Incisors tore at damaged flesh that would never heal, and her rough tongue pulled away the soil and debris that had lodged itself within the scrapes. Her blood was a delicacy upon Nimueh’s tongue – not to say that the Iberian was a vampire, but when the hunger of her stomach and the hunger of her lust overlapped, it was quite the delectable feeling. Even through her pain, which Nimueh knew would be long standing due to her own medical issues, she felt warmth spreading – a good sign indeed, that she could still become aroused even when injured. It meant that she was not hurt severely enough to be sent into shock, which would have cooled her and sent her bodice into a state of shivers that would not have been able to be quelled. Nimueh moved around the Alphess, not voicing a word of complaint herself, and ensured that each wound was stripped raw and marveled in the bright crimson paint that stained the Queen like a banner. Occasionally, she slipped in the most subtle of nuzzles along with the harsh cleansing – a slip of her nares that pushed against Dante’s flesh inappropriately. When she at last tended to Dante’s cranium, she allowed the edge of her jaw to slip down Dante’s cheek and under her chin briefly before pulling away. She paused and turned her pupils up toward Dante, Nimueh’s colorless orbs peering at her beneath fluttering lids. “I’m ready for my massage.” Smiling back at her, she waited patiently for her to tend to her wounds. Nimueh’s plume swept over Dante’s form any time that it had the chance.

When Dante had finished, Nimueh turned to Dakota and shined a dazzling smile upon him. “I daresay, it is your turn now, dearest. I’m sure the mint I rubbed upon you will only improve the taste of your flesh upon my tongue.” The softest of laughs pulled itself from her maw, but the motion shocked her system by tearing at her own wounds and a grimace crossed her façade before she could stop the muscles in her face from contracting. If he showed any signs of concern, she would shake her cranium. “Do not worry about me, I will live to stare at you another day.” Swiftly she moved to his side and cleaned his wounds just as she had Dante’s, pressing against his side softly as she curled around his form, attending to all of his scrapes even if they were only superficial.

While Nimueh and the others were tending to each other, Hellene worked swiftly, cleaning Rodan’s deep wounds which were already flowing swiftly. She then had picked up many of them again and chewed them all together in her mouth, her cheeks puckering similar to how a chipmunks was and closed her lids, bracing against the bitter taste. Most herbs were not tasty as it was… but when mixed together it was even worse. Her tongue then began to push the poultice out of her mouth and onto Rodan’s wounds one by one, the brown mush sticking to his flesh. It was full of healing power – aloe to help the tissues regenerate, chamomile to relax his muscles which surely would suffer from contracture while healing, cinquefoil to prevent further inflammation, root of Lady’s mantle to staunch the bleeding, poppy to ease the pain, and moss to thicken it all and help hold it together, along with prevent infection. Unconscious as he was, treating him orally would not be possible for the most part. However, she did slip some poppy seeds into his mouth, her tongue forcing the transfer from her mouth to his until many rested upon his gums. Though it would not work as well as if he swallowed them, some of it would be absorbed through the membrane. Leaping over him, she ran into the words and pulled off the largest leaf she could find and ran back, laying it over the largest gaping wound. “I need one of you to come put pressure upon this, at least for the next fifteen to thirty minutes until the poultice hardens.” She waited for someone to respond before ceremoniously moving through the other three wolves, covering the wounds mainly just with moss and poppy, along with giving them full stems of poppy plant for them to ingest throughout the day to manage their pain.

One Betrayal Leads to Another Betrayal

My parents have gone My siblings have abandoned me My lover broke me I have no allegiance

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