A sticky film coated the mouth of the beast as it panted. Fever raged, a wildfire consuming the mind and the body of Wild Thing. Lyme Disease ate at his body, crushing his spirit and taking captive his mind. The dense thicket of grass was the only real thing, swaying blurrily above the stag's form.
His head throbbed in tune with his heartbeat, pain great enough to cause a loss of consciousness swept over his body like a tide. The blackness rolled, and once again his shivering form went limp. The deer seemed to have collapsed on death's doorstep, and his mind pleaded to be allowed through.
Coughing wracked the lungs and chest of the stricken animal, white bile and spittle spattering his lips and the earth before him. A groan, utterly human, came forth in the agony he suffered. How could it have spread so quickly? The sickness-induced illusion of the jars and bottles attached to his tines rattled like bones as the stag raised his head to peer around. He wanted to make sure no other beings were nearby, lest this disease prove to be contagious.
The Birch Forest was devoid of life in this part, a bad choice for a sick deer who truly wanted to live. A meager grunt was all he could rouse from his form, a call for help. He needed herbs, water, something to help heal him. His head leaning against a tree, the stag allowed himself to sag again in to a rest. His scent drifted on the air, announcing to all who came near that Wild Thing was ill.
Roe was grazing at the
A sound.
Roe's head snapped up as she froze. Motionless except for her large swiveling ears. It was almost comical as the wad of grass she had been chewing fell from her mouth. The sound didn't come again. Roe's fur bristled. Something was wrong. Her head snapped left and right, quickly, quietly. No one was in her field of vision, but the forest was eerily quiet. She raised her head high, sniffing at the air, flaring her nostrils to bring in as most scent as she could.
Sicknes . . . .
There was no mistaking the scent. It was one of looming death. Of agony. Roe huffed and shook her head. She should move on. The smell was a bad one. She turned . . . .
. . . . .but, Roe could not leave. It was against her nature not to help. Instead, she followed the scent. Through the brich forest, it became stronger, heavier, causing great concern in the small brown doe.
She saw a mass leaning against a tree. A sickly stag in bad shape. Roe approached cautiously. She sniffed and cleared her throat.
"H-hello. My name is Roe." She paused. "I'm here to help."
Wow. Amazingly real. You
The stag moved to gain
The stag grunted, moving slightly. "Blood-bug sick. Not Sick soon. He tried, seemingly blowing off his illness even through his labored breath. He still peered at the doe through his unfocused eyes, or tried to at least. A shudder wracked the form, and the beast reached a shaky foot to scratch the sight of the infection. "Not Sick soon." He said again, more assuring himself than Roe, whom in a brief moment he had forgotten was there. So was this stage of Lyme.
may i rp?
Sorry, wolfy, but this is a
Roe watched the stag in
Blood-bug sick
She saw him reach a hoof up to scratch. So weak. So shaky. It clicked for Roe. Blood bug, the weakness, the delerium . . . A tick. She approached his side quickly.
"You won't get me sick," she reassured the stag. She searched the area where the stag had scratched. His fur was thick, but she could just make out the tell-tale bullseye.
Lyme disease.
Roe's heart raced. She truly didn't have much time to help this stag. If he was delerious, and feverish, he was close to the end. His weakness and labored breathing worried her.
She moved to look him in the eye. "I need you to listen to me." She spoke calmly, purposefully. "You were bitten by a tick. You have Lyme disease. I can help you." She looked into his pitiful eyes, urgency apparent in her own. "You are very sick and I need to collect some roots. I need you to stay here." The words came slow and deliberate. A brief nuzzle, and she was off.
Roe had treated lyme disease before, but never such an extreme case. The stag was in the end stages and she didn't know if her roots would be strong enough. Even if she saved his life, he may have permanent nerve damage. She shook her head and muttered to herself. Those are not the thoughts to have. You WILL help him.
She ran towards the great oak, her hooves pounding the ground.
The stag blinked. A doe did
"I stay, rest help Not Sick come." He smiled, watching her leave before lowering his head to the ground. He thought he heard the jars jingle again, rattling like bones. He smiled, drifting away again.
His body, on the other hand, awoke. The stag rose to his hooves, following Roe as soon as she was out of sight. The form of Wild Thing stumbled, then propelled itself toward the great tree that Roe also propelled herself toward, but without any reason.
The beast inhaled, taking in Roe's scent, before cresting the low hill near the oak. If Wild Thing were awake, he could see the doe digging among the roots of the tree. Unconsciously, he stepped forward until he was behind her, then lowered his tines to scrape away the dirt like a rutting stag. His eyes rolled in his head and the lids fluttered, but remained closed. His breathing was shallow, but even, like a sleeping being.
The scent of churned earth filled the air, and a few of the weeds clung to his antlers. The stag raised his head, clumps of dirt falling in to his fur. He wavered, then collapsed there with an unceremonious thud. Sleepwalkers were funny that way.
Roe reached the great oak and
She was uprooting the plants when she heard a loud thump. Roe stopped a moment and turned around. She was shocked to see the stag had followed her. He lay there motionless save for his breathing. Roe moved close to him. "Hello! Stag!" She prodded him with a front hoof. "Wake up! I have some roots for you!" She hoped he would wake up. The wild indigo wouldn't cure him, but it was a start. It would help until she could get to her stash of olive leaves.
But they would do no good if he didn't wake up.
The stag roused, blinking
"I... eat?" He asked, making sure it was not bad for him to do, considering the potent smell and bitter taste of the herbs where one of his lower teeth had pierced it. Like a child, he did not really want to take the medicine offered, though as his subconscious showed through following Roe that he knew he had to do so to get better. The stag bit his lower lip, waiting for the order to ingest the foul plant-bits. It was not in his conscious realization, but his ears had pinned to his head in an act of dislike upon looking at those roots on the ground before him.
Roe smiled at the look of
"I want you to rest," she said softly. "I'll stay with you, keep you safe." She looked up at him, her grey eyes pleading with him to listen to her. "Are you hurting at all?" She hoped not, but she could help with that if he were. She felt a nap would be good for them both, before she set off in search of the olive leaves.
At her order the stag
Her question brought the drowsy stag back from the short journey his mind was trying to take him on. "Just ache. Always Ache, sick gives Always Ache to Wild Thing every time. Feels like running... hitting tree... or after bad fight in rut." He hoped that would explain things, but knew that his limited vocabulary didn't always get across what he wanted to. His form ached all over, deep in to his bones.
"Don't want to sleep. Wake up other place. Rest if Doe Roe say, but no sleep." The stag lay his head down. Protect Doe Roe, Not Sick Bringer. The thought allowed him to prick his ears and be watchful, even from a resting position. Sure, his fever raged and his body ached, but Wild Thing would not let any harm come to someone who tried to help him. He felt as if his sleepwalking might cause the doe harm.
Roe smiled at the remark that
"If you can at least rest, I'll be happy." She thought a moment. "Will you stay here while I get my olive leaves? So I'll be able to find you easy?" She looked at him sternly. "I'll mix them with honey for you. They've been fermenting and will taste awefull." She stood. "Plus, the honey will boost your immune system." Roe turned and walked a few steps, looking back over her shoulder. "Stay there," she demanded.
She had stashed her olive leaves by the crying idol. The moisture helped them ferment which brought out the antibacterial qualities more than just the leaves by themselves. She crawled down the slope at the back of the idol, being careful not to slip. The mist made the grass slipery and she needed to get back to the sick stag. She moved a smooth rock which she had placed on top of the leaves. Picking them up in her mouth, she scaled the hill, stopping at a nearby tree to collect honey from a hive.
Roe made her way back to the great oak, hoping that Wild Thing had listened to her.
(( Sorry for taking so long
The stag assured her he would stay. A smile crossed his face as she mentioned the honey, but then it turned to concern as she walked away. Would she be stung by those? Honey-makers sting when you get close to their home. Wild Thing was conflicted. Roe told him to stay, yet he wanted to protect her from the honey-makers. The stag shifted like a dog who is anxious for his master. The pain in his legs escalated so that a stretch sounded better and better to Wild Thing.
The stag was standing by the time Roe got back, but leaned comfortably against a bulge in the giant oak. "No thorns from Honey-Makers, yes?" The stag voiced his concern. His gait seemed to be a little more stable now that the Wild Indigo was taking effect, lessening his arthritic symptoms and lowering his fever slowly. Hopefully, the lowering of his fever might also lessen the psychological symptoms, but only time would tell.
Wild Thing smiled, standing straight. His eyes seemed a little less tired, a little less painful even from the minor relief of the Indigo. Roe proved to be a good healer so far.
(no worries!) Roe was
Roe was relieved to see that Wild Thing had stayed put. She had to think a moment about the "thorns" he spoke, and smiled when she understood he meant the stingers of honey bees. She spat out her olive leaves, covered in honey, on the ground. "Nope!" she chuckled. "No thorns from the honey makers!" Roe lied. She had been stung several times, but it was nothing new for her. She had a sweet tooth and often risked stings for a taste of honey.
Amazingly, Wild Thing was already looking better. "I brought the olive leaves and honey. Now, the honey will make the leaves taste better, but they still won't taste very good." She pawed at the ground near her pile. It certainly didn't look appetizing. Fermented clumps of grey leaves, covered in sticky goo and dripping with saliva. Roe didn't envy him. In fact, looking at the pile made her stomach turn. She tried hard not to show it. "Eat it as fast as you can and it won't be too bad." The olive leaves were more potent than the wild indigo, and should knock out most of the infection.
The stag smiled, walking
"Thank you, Doe Roe. Honey helps." He smiled, licking the sticky amber from his lips. Shuffling his hooves, the stag looked again at Roe. "Doe Roe help Wild Thing. Want help her back." He spoke with conviction, a complete turnaround from the feeble and feverish stag she stumbled upon a few hours earlier. The stag's tail flicked nervously. "Give something to do."
Roe was pleased that Wild
Roe blushed (if a deer could blush) at the sincere thank you from the stag. Taking praise wasn't something the doe was good at. She opened her mouth to respond when the stag mentioned he wanted to help her back. Help me with what? she wondered. Wild Thing looked nervous as he stated "give something to do."
"What do you want to help me with?" she asked him, her head cocked slightly. She had flicked her large ears foreward, her grey eyes soft, waiting for his response.
The deer tilted his head
The stag's tail flickered. He did not know what else to say to the healer. Offering help with things that the doe found difficult was all he could think of.
(I love the "big things,
Roe's blush deepened. She smiled and nuzzled the stag. "Thank you, Wild Thing," she said. "Seeing you feeling better is more than enough for me." Roe thought for a moment. Wild Thing would probably not take no for an answer, and would want to help her with something to give his thanks. "If I think of something I need help with, I'll let you know!" She nuzzled him again, sticky honey from his chin dripping onto her fur. She chuckled realizing they were both a mess. "I could use a drink of water. Do you want to come with me to the pond?" She took a step back and smiled softly at him.
(Wild Thing =Iphea) Iphea
Iphea smiled, agreeing as he licked clean the spot of her fur with one swipe of his rough tongue. "Sticky fur... bath time." He smiled. "Doe Roe is friend, say Iphea if want." It was his decision that once he knew someone well enough, he would let them know his real name, but until then he would call himself "Wild Thing." Roe was a friend now, and could call the stag whatever she wished. He plodded along beside the doe until they reached the deep, clear pool of water.
The ground squelched beneath and between the stag's hooves as he waded toward and in to the pond a ways. The stag stuck his face in to the water, bubbles coming up around him as he shook his head. A laugh escaped him as he brought his soaked head from the surface. Peering through the dripping water, he made out Roe's form.
(sorry about the late reply -
Roe couldn't contain her laughter at the stag's dripping head. And the laughter . . . was a relief. She had been so worried about Iphea (Iphea, yes. It suits him), she didn't realize how tense she had become.
At that, Roe trotted over and plunged herself into the water, the cool liquid enveloping her. She submerged her whole body and moved closer to Iphea. Bubbles gave her away, but she jumped up splashing him and giggling.
"The water feels so wonderful!" She nuzzled his dripping, wet fur. "You don't know how happy I am that you're feeling better." She dipped her head down to the water, placing her nostrils in, and exhaled. Bubbles exploded around her snout and she snorted-laughed.
Iphea grinned. "Feeling
The water foamed around him for a moment, then he disappeared. The deer crawled forward, trying his hardest to hold his breath. He couldn't, though, hide his antlers. They pricked out of the surface, much like shark-fins. He broke the surface right near Roe, squirting water from his mouth to spatter her.
"So much better. No more hot, no more sick." He grinned, standing. The water rolled through and off his fur as if he were standing beneath a waterfall or a downpour. A rainbow was created as he shook, visible in the brief spray. "Must remember check for Lymes." He spoke low, almost to himself.
Roe giggled watching the stag
"Oh Iphea . . ." she was laughing. "You can't," another snort, "You can't find lymes!" Roe stood and shook the water off, nearly toppling over from her laughter. She nuzzled the stag. "It's ticks. You gotta watch for ticks!" She leaned against his great bulk of damp fur - she hadn't felt this good in awhile.
Roe giggled again as she dipped her muzzle into the pond, pulling in a mouthfull of water. She looked up at Iphea, still at his side, and sprayed the water playfully at his ear.
"But Lymes make sick! Tick is
Iphea smiled. The stag was soaked through, but loving it. The warm sun beat on his back like a masseuse, working out the kinks from laying too long on the hard birch floor. Roe pressed to his side showed him one thing that he lacked: Company. The stag was often wary of others, mostly due to the fact that they had more speech-capability than him. Iphea lacked something that made him capable to form more than simple sentences. Maybe he would learn, being in the forest.
Roe smiled up at Iphea. I
She looked up at him again and nuzzled him. "Run?" she asked.
The word sent shivers down
Once he made sure she was beside him, the stag increased his pace. A walk quickened in to a jaunt, to a trot, before he stretched his long and thin legs to their full extent. Back and forth his body rocked, hooves clipping the ground in a jovial rhythm. The beast kicked up his heels, throwing back his antlers in a capriole. It was a joy to run after being stationary for so many days, and he did not care that he was starting to experience a comforting fatigue. The water spraying from his drying fur dripped away the sickness and melancholy that had consumed him, leaving Iphea fresh and clean in blood and in spirit.
The beast looked to the doe next to him, a smile widening on his face. The forest raced by, though Roe seemed to stay in focus, as if the world were moving and they stood still. It was, gratefully, the other way around.
Roe ran next to the stag, her
Roe marveled at their speed. The forest was a blur, the only sounds that registerd were their beating hooves and Roe's beating heart. She could hear, no, feel each beat of her heart, pumping hard and fast. It was exhilirating.
Iphea let his playfulness
The stag took in all the feelings around him, drinking them in as a desert-dweller does water. The world seemed a new thing, just as it had when Iphea was a fawn. Roe seemed to bloom as he did, but Iphea did not know any different of her.
Iphea peered at Roe and grinned, before veering off and leaping in to a rustling thicket. Beyond, a swathe of violet flowers lay, and Iphea plopped down in them, exhausted but laughing a warm laughter. The stag buried his nose in the blooms as a shy fawn would.
Iphea's silliness was
Time seemed to stand still. The rest of the forest became a blur. Only her and Iphea and the flower patch existed. She had never felt so free.
The stag laughed, before
The flowers sent a pouf of the forest's characteristic gold dust in to the air as Iphea's tail flicked against them. "What think Doe Roe? Forest good place when No Sick, yes?" The stag's ear flickered as a butterfly shot past.
Roe giggled as Iphea tickled
The stag contentedly nibbled
"I suppose a butterfly
Butterfly taste... like
Roe chuckled at the mention
....So nice here.... He
He agreed. "Nice company." He smiled, burying his nose in her fur this time and inhaling her scent deeply. It was much like that of the flowers, or maybe the flowers had clouded his nose. "Still odd flower." Iphea grinned, before plopping his head down in the blooms. They were blurry things in his vision, but beyond them he could see her, and she was rather clear.
"Hmmm, I am an odd flower . .
The stag jumped a little,
Gi zah gin? The words floated through his mind, from the language back home. He seemed too shy to say them yet.
"Odd flower... beautiful blessing." He smiled, stretching his neck to lick her cheek.
The delicate licks made Roe's
The stag nearly groaned in
(Hehe Doctor-patient confidentiality is all I can think right now....)
(lol!) If a deer could
If a deer could blush, Roe surely would have when Iphea's tail brushed her hind quarters. She tried to pay it no mind as she continued to nibble at the fur on his neck and jaw, wrestling a small stickle-burr loose. Roe hadn't been groomed by another deer since she came to this forest and the closeness felt wonderful. Her heart had sped up with the tail brushing, but was slow and rhythmic again with the nibbling. Her breathing was slow and deliberate as she took in Iphea's scent, savoring the moment.
Iphea could not help himself,
The stag twitched away a butterfly from his shoulder. It seemed that they had grown used to the pair's company, getting closer and more curious of the pair of large beings that invaded their patch of flowers. The being chuckled at the curious insects as they each took turns exploring their bodies, most finding interest in his antlers.
"Mmmmm," Roe was caught in