[ P ] touch the sky

T

here are times in life when an individual finds themself wanting to be surrounded by others. They want to hear the laughter and conversations that company have to offer, to feel like they were a part of a group, to feel surrounded and loved. And then, there were times when an indivial just wants to be left alone. When the very thought of being around another person makes them want to punch a wall. This was one of those moments.

Unusually dull, Calliope moved through Yorkshire with a noticeable limp. Her morning had started off perfectly; awake before the sun, a brisk stroll along the beach, a good breakfast that didn't break the bank. And then, she had this idea. It seemed good to start, but quickly after it began, Calliope knew she had messed up. 'Ay bet thee sun's glory would be betta viewed from up there,' She had thought, peering up at one of the rocky cliffs that lined the beach's edge. And it was beautiful indeed, until the young girl found herself stepping sideways on a loose rock, sending her tumbling down the cliffs edge.

So now she would no longer climb the cliffs, but rather stumble and sulk her way through town. Calliope's gaze was adverted to the ground with embarressment as she weaved through the shadows cast from high above the tree line. The area was new and foreign to her, she had no clue where she was going or where she had been, though that really didn't matter much. There was a wetness that clung to her front limb and a strong metallic scent that told her she was bleeding. It was a miracle, really, that she wasn't in worse shape. A scraps and a limb underable to bear weight was hardly anything to complain about.

A puddle nearby shimmered in the morning sun, sending reflections of light this way and that. Calliope made her over, slowly dipping her nose downwards to take a good look at the pool of liquid. "Yer aff yer heid." It seemed clear enough and there didn't appear to be anything growing within that would cause infection, though she was certain her Highlander family would scold her for even considering it. None the less, she didn't have much choice, nor did she hardly care to ocntinue searching.

Slowly, she'd lift pawfuls of water onto her bleeding scraps and wounds, sucking in deep breaths as her agitated skin screamed at her to stop. Ah, what a great morning indeed.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Valefor

keepers of the lost lore

Valefor Janković is exhausted. One could expect little else from a man who's just getting off of an overnight shift tending to soldiers preparing to march. He, too, must go with them—but there is still time yet, and he intends to spend it well. Before departing the barracks, he stops by his stores for a little pick-me-up and then heads out into the city and familiar cobblestone streets. A wicker basket with a few items for trade dangles from between his jaws, and he trots jauntily through the familiar rows, stopping into his favorite shops to exchange stories and goods. By the time he's done with his errands, cured meats and poultices and silver coins have been replaced with a restock of herbs, ointments, and bandages. The life of an army medic means that his supplies are always running low, and while he could send a trainee on such minor tasks, Valefor prefers to do it himself. It's one of the rare times he gets to interact with the townsfolk and old friends, and he values those days dearly. As he exits the third shop with the soft tinkle of a bell to mark his departure, the sharp tang of blood hits his nostrils, and the healer pauses. His ears perk forward, head tilting analytically to the side, and his muzzle swings in the direction of the source. Setting out into the street, Valefor follows the trail with open curiosity to a quiet part of town, and eventually finds a young woman he does not recognize attempting to rather awkwardly clean out a fresh, ragged gash on her leg. His brows arch slightly as he takes in the scene and ventures closer—until he is within a reasonable speaking distance—and sets his basket down. "That looks nasty," he ventures by way of greeting, standing square and calm as he peers curiously at the she-wolf. "May I take a look?" Valefor queries good-naturedly, nodding towards her leg and offering a faint, friendly quirk of his lips.

code & art

@Calliope

A

s if on cue, a deep voice calls out to her, commenting on the worsened state of her leg and asking if she requires any assistance. Calliope, determined to take care of her herself in this new life, shakes her head without lifting her gaze to meet the stranger's. "Nay. I ought to be able to handle this meself," She assured him. Did she really look that out of place?

A moment passed as she girl would continue to tidy her own wound. She dunked it in the puddle once more, earning herself another sharp gasp as the pain reverberated through her limb. The water, to her disappointment, didn't seem to be doing much either as the gash came out just as dirty as before. Calliope's brows furrowed with frustration at the sight. Never before had she had to tend to her own wounds, as the nurse of the house was always on hand. It seemed silly to think about now, as after all those years and all that studying, she hadn't once thought to learn enough to tend to a simple cut.

"Ay, on second thought," Emerald orbs had shifted upwards now to meet the source of the voice that had called out before. She did her best to appear appreciative, a soft grin pulling at the corner of her lips. "I don't seem to be tha best of doctas. Why don't cha give it a go afta all." Calliope shifted so that the man could get a better look at the wound itself, though as long as he didn't claim she'd need an amputation, she'd trust his word on her condition.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Valefor