On the Mend. [Ira] [C]

[Zephyr Woodwind]

As the sun rose over the Nakoma District, Zephyr found herself in a rare moment of peace. She sat alone on a watch tower constructed of piled cars and other scraps, letting the first sun rays of the day warm her skin. The Chief sighed contently, allowing herself to close her eyes and enjoy the quiet that was so rare these days. It wasn’t that she wasn’t troubled or worried about the Tribe’s future, because she constantly was, but she had learned to quell her chaotic, racing thoughts if only for a few minutes at a time. The dawn patrol gathering to set out brought noise back into the junkyard and tore Zephyr from her meditation. She waved as they passed, and though she didn’t want to, climbed down from her tower to deal with the day and inevitable problems ahead of her. She did have a lot to be concerned about, especially with the anthros grumbling about the injured Fulsi she’d brought back to Shantytown. It had been two days since Ira and Pebble had been attacked by rogues, and Zephyr was running out of ways to explain herself. ‘Because I say so’ could only carry her orders for so long. Truth be told, she wasn’t completely sure why she’d saved them herself. She was fond of the Fulsi and his horse-girl, even though they had only met once before. It had taken days for her to get the farmer out of her mind after their first encounter, and now that he was in her camp, it had been hard to stay away from the medics’ area. Trying to play it cool, she’d only asked for reports on the Fulsi so far, but today she knew she had to go check on him. Zephyr made her way back to the Hovel, walking inside and finding her way to their makeshift medical wing, a section of the huge structure that was blocked off with a couple of barrier curtains, and where a couple of cots and the majority of their medical supplies were kept. As she approached, she motioned for the medics to take a break from their work. She wanted to see Ira alone. Zephyr poked her head through the curtains and saw him there; he was still sleeping on his cot, his torso bare except for the bandages wrapped around his chest. The blood stains on the bandages were smaller than she had expected, which relived her. The Nakoma healers were skilled, something Zephyr and many of the other tribe members were thankful for. She walked into the room and pulled the curtain closed behind her, and then took a seat on the edge of the cot, her long tail resting over Ira’s legs and over the other end of the bed. “Ira,” She spoke quietly, gently placing a hand on the uninjured side of his chest. “Ira, wake up.”

[Ira Baranov]

It was always such a strange feeling, waking up after surgery. He heard the ebb and flow of voices around him, but couldn't make out the words. It was that all too familiar feeling, that shock of slowly coming back to reality with that dull ache that spread through his entire body. He heard a voice, closer this time. Close enough for him to make out his name. His chapped lips cracked open, sticking together slightly; he let out a soft rasp of air as he tried to answer the voice. Let me go back to sleep, Bátja , he wanted to say, but he couldn't manage much more than a soft groan. Ira started to drift back into unconsciousness, but felt a pressure on his chest as if someone had laid a hand on it. He groaned again, though it was more of a dissatisfied grunt. Alright, alright, he thought, struggling to open his eyes. Every movement seemed to take ages, everything feeling heavy and weighted. The room was dim (which was a nice change from the usual bright white hospital rooms that had greeted him) but as his eyes slowly roamed the room, panic startled to take over as he saw nothing but unfamiliar faces. "Bátja?" he called, his voice cracking. "Where are you?" he rasped in Russian, struggling to sit up. A sharp pain in his chest sent him back down instantly, head spinning with the blinding pain. He felt a hand gripping his arm and his eyes snapped open, desperately hoping to see his father's face. But what he saw sent a jolt of shock through him, jarring him back to reality. It all came flooding back in an instant and he remembered where he was. The Menagerie. He wasn't in a hospital, waking up from another surgery on his leg (that would explain why his chest was hurting), and his father wasn't here. The woman sitting in front of him wasn't Milena, either. Ira drew in a shaky breath, struggling to remember who the strange woman was--he knew her face, with those strong green eyes and bright white hair. "Zephyr?" he rasped after a moment, hardly believing that the strange Anthro woman who had brought Pebble back to the farm was here, in front of him. "Where am I?" His eyes flickered down to his chest and saw the thick bandages, a bit of fresh blood dotting it from his struggle. Ira clawed absently at the bandage as he struggled to remember what happened, panic rising in his chest as it slowly came back to him, prompting him to sit bolt upright again, attempting to get out of the cot. "Where's Pebble?" he demanded, his voice booming through the room as he hauled himself out of bed, staggering on unsteady feet. ooc Bátja - familiar term for "Dad" in Russian

[Zephyr Woodwind]

A soft smile formed on Zephyr’s lips as she saw Ira’s eyes flutter open. She opened her mouth to greet him again, when suddenly he was calling out frantically in another language. The smile was wiped from her face and was instantly replaced with a look of surprise and concern. “Ira!” she cried out, moving to help him back down to the cot. His desperate attempt to get up so quickly must have hurt him, the way he was suddenly flat on his back again. “It’s okay!” She tried to assure him, reaching out a hand to soothingly stroke his arm. “You’re alright, just take it easy. You’ll pull out your stitches.” Zephyr sighed with relief when he seemed to settle down again. His recognition of her brought the bright smile back to her face, and she nodded. “Yes. You’re in the Nakoma’s medical center—Ira, no!” she gasped as he struggled to get up again, the worry for his horse friend overcoming the pain that he must have been feeling. “Pebble is just fine, she’s with Paxton, one of my most trustworthy people!” The chief exclaimed, grabbing Ira’s arm and pulling him back down to the cot. It was almost the truth. The horse-girl was up and walking around, so technically fine. But what Zephyr hadn’t mentioned was that Pebble had suffered a blow to the head in the fight and was blinded. She hoped it was a temporary condition, as she really didn’t want to have to break the news to Ira. It was clear how much he cared for the horse-girl, and hearing that she’d be without her sight forever would just break his heart. For now, she had the girl sticking to Paxton like glue, and was glad that they seemed to get along. Zephyr only prayed that her sight would return to her soon. “You’ll see her soon, I promise, but not if you kill yourself first! That blade cut deep. If your heart were where most other people’s are, I don’t think I would be speaking to you right now,” Zephyr explained, her expression darkening. For some reason, the thought nearly made her want to cry. Her eyes stung with no explanation, and she had to take in a sharp breath to keep her eyes from getting glassy. “SO,” she continued, leaning over and gently lowering Ira back onto his back. “You’re going to get your rest.” The growing splotches of red on Ira’s bandages caught her eye, and she let out an exasperated sigh. “Now I’ll have to change your bandages too!”

[Ira Baranov]

Ira ripped his arm away from her when she grabbed it, but immediately regretted the decision. Her arm had been keeping him steady and he pitched forward, barely managing to catch himself on a conveniently placed beam. Her words reached him through the rushing in his ears, the sharp pangs in his chest making it harder and harder to breathe. Her words were of little comfort to him, but as he glanced around the room he didn't see any threat. Sweat beaded on his brow and he nodded to the anthro woman, letting her lead him the few steps back to the cot; he landed heavily, avoiding eye contact as she gently lowered him onto his back. He didn't want to talk to her, despite her welcoming smile and the surprising warmth in her tone. He got the feeling that he was indeed safe here, at least with Zephyr standing at his side. Ira didn't trust anyone as far as he could throw a tractor, and he trusted anthros even less; especially being that he was a trespassing Fulsi. He nodded vaguely to her when she said something about changing his bandages, and whisked off to fetch supplies. He was silent as he stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense of whole situation. He didn't remember much about the fight--only that Pebble had been taken, and apparently he'd ended up with a knife in his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. The Rogue man had pinned him again, grabbed his knife. He had raised his hands to block the blow, but he felt the knife sink into his chest. He remembered hearing the man gloating to his accomplice. And then the clatter of hooves on the cobblestone. Pebble? No, there were two sets, lighter than Pebble's heavy trod. He heard voices, growing distant. The edges of his vision blurring, he kept trying to grab at the blade, to stop the bleeding. Hands wrapped around his, stilling his attempts. He looked up and saw a face; her face. Her lips moved and she was saying his name, willing him to hold on, willing him to live. He opened his eyes as he felt her carefully undoing the bandage on his chest. His eyes trailed down to the relatively small cut for the pain it caused him, just an inch or so above the two gunshot scars already there. He swallowed against the knot of fear that had risen in his throat, realizing how close to death he had been for about the third time in his life. This time Zephyr had been there to keep him from setting that other foot in the grave; she'd called him back, kept him from the darkness. He remained silent, unyielding as she cleaned the wound and finished with the fresh bandage. She looked as if she were going to leave, and he thought his silence had offended her. She was turning to leave and he reached out, his hand wrapping around her wrist to stop her. "Thank you," he said, clearing his throat. "I owe you Pebble's life." He met her gaze at last, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. "And my own." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, letting his fall back to the cot. "I am thankful that you have helped us. But I think I should not stay the night. It can not be easy for you to explain why you help me," he paused, brows furrowing. "Why did you help, besides? I was trespassing. Most would have let me die." ooc 8D

[Zephyr Woodwind]

Zephyr sighed and walked off to collect fresh supplies for Ira’s wound. She carefully but quickly browsed the medical stores for what she needed, half worried that Ira would try and run off again before she returned. She knew that he must be wary and confused. He was injured and alone Nakoma territory, relying solely on Zephyr’s good will and control over her tribe to keep him alive. There were already Nakoma members coming to her with complaints, demanding that she not waste any more supplies on an outsider. Zephyr was indeed walking a fine line by continuing to care for him, and every time she was confronted, she could feel her heart rate skyrocketing. But she always kept her calm façade and reminded them that small acts of good will towards shifters from the Rings could, in time, turn the tide of hatred away from them. Any chance to make friends and allies was to be acted upon, if the tribe would not suffer for it. The Chief returned after a few moments, fresh bandages in hand. She took a seat next to Ira again, and undid the old bandage. She looked in awe at the wound, which seemed so small, but would have been the end of anyone but Ira. Her vivid green eyes trailed to the two circular scars then, and for a moment she felt a question form on her lips, until she thought better of it. One step at a time, she silently reminded herself. Ira seemed barely willing to talk about current issues, so she was quite sure that his past was out of the question. She worked quickly and quietly, applying the fresh bandages until he was all wrapped up again. “Well, there you are,” she told him, standing to leave. Before she could turn to go, Ira caught her by the wrist. She glanced to him in surprise, her tail swishing behind her thoughtfully as he spoke. A warm smile graced her face as he thanked her, and she nodded, sitting back down. “It was my duty to stop it, if it was in my power,” she told him. Zephyr did not have the most stable group in the menagerie, but they would never grow in strength and confidence if they allowed rogues to roam free, attacking whoever they pleased. Not to mention that a Fulsi body on her lands would most certainly start a war that could only end as badly as the last did. But there was more to it, she realized, as she looked at him, noting the faint trace of a smile. “It most certainly hasn’t been easy, but I just couldn’t let you die,” Zephyr tried to explain. But why? Why should she care for a trespassing Fulsi? The answer was clear enough; she simply did. “I care about you. And the girl… after our first meeting it was clear how much you both care for one another. It is a rare thing to see. A special thing, and this place needs more people who care for one another, not less.”

[Ira Baranov]

He watched her with growing interest as she spoke, in what he believed to be honesty. Zephyr was an interesting woman, to say the least; capable of sinking arrows into a man's throat but with those same hands able to bring such warmth and healing. He could almost still feel her fingers running across his skin, almost wishing he hadn't fought so hard to ignore it. It had been a time since someone had touched him, even just a handshake or a pat on the back. Zephyr was the only one who had gotten close to him in the past...God, who knows how long. He couldn't help but remember how she'd pressed against his chest, just to listen to his heartbeat. She had been fascinated with his abnormality, and though he usually felt like some case study at a UNIT exhibition when people found out, somehow the anthro woman had made it feel special. When she brought up the first time they'd met, it brought a smile to his face. She remembered the farm. She remembered...him. It was a strange concept for him, to be remembered. The only person that had ever really thought of him was his Father, and he had been gone for too many years. He caught himself staring into her eyes, a habit that was hard for him to break. His father had always taught him to look people in the eye, to show them what you were made of. To show everything you were capable of, with just one glance so that they would never doubt your strength. He smiled at her when he caught himself staring, shaking his head in slight apology in case he'd made her uncomfortable. He'd learned over the years that some did not handle direct eye contact well, and in the animal world it was seen as a challenge. He supposed he was challenging her, and everyone else, in a way. That he was equal (if not greater) in strength and spirit, even as a...cripple. He wondered for a moment if she knew, if she'd seen his leg and judged him for it. Is that why she had helped him? Because she thought he was too weak? No, he didn't believe that. She had told him the reason, and he believed she was speaking in earnest. It warmed his heart, what she had said. That there were others out there that believed in the sanctity of kindness, of family no matter what form it came in. He thought for a moment that he might not see her again, once he left. And he wanted her to know that her words were not lost on him. "I do not doubt you have the power to stop whatever or whomever you wished," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "I appreciate very much any risk you have taken to keep me and my Pebble safe. I owe you everything," he said, brows furrowing for a moment as he realized what weakness he was showing. His father would chastise him. He grasped at the three barred wooden cross strung around his neck, rubbing his thumb across the age-smoothed surface as he thought for a few moments on what to say next "I can tell that you are a great leader, Zephyr. You care not only for your own people, but for others. Such a sacrifice, it is no small thing. It is not something I had expected from..." he paused and glanced away from her as he thought it: Anthro. Animal, freak. All these words his Ringmates threw around. He cleared his throat and smiled up at her again, with a nod. "As you said, this hell needs more people to care. More people like you, I think." He drew in a shaky breath his chest still tight and aching, making it a struggle. "How long until I will be able to travel, you think? I know a little of these things, but medicine is not exactly my field. And Pebble? You are sure she is ok, she is not too scared with out me?" ooc| WHADDAHECK HOW THE FOOK HAS IT BEEN A FRAGGLEFARKIN YEAR WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA;OJSMK,T

[Zephyr Woodwind]

Zephyr couldn’t help but smile as he spoke again, in his soothing rumble of a voice. It wasn’t the loud voice one might have expected to come out of a man like him. He seemed somehow shy and reserved, and it was intriguing to her. He looked from the outside at least, like he had all the confidence in the world, yet if he did, he didn’t go around flouting it. He was true to his values and the things he held dear. There didn’t seem to be a façade to dig through with Ira; he was definitely not like anyone Zephyr had ever met. She shook her head softly and took Ira’s hand in hers without thinking about it. “No, my friend, you do not owe me anything.” The last thing she wanted the man to feel was that he was indebted to her. Zephyr had helped him because she wanted to, and whether he stayed a while longer or headed back to the Fulsi sooner was to be his choice. She didn’t want him at all to feel like he was obligated to leave as soon as possible. The Nakoma would help him for as long as he needed, as much as they were able to, just as they did for any anthro that came their way. Zephyr didn’t even flinch as Ira’s words trailed off into a slightly awkward silence. She knew what he was thinking. That she and her people were nothing like he had expected savage anthros to be like. But she didn’t hold it against him for a second. It was almost the norm in the Menagerie to treat anthros with hatred and fear, whether or not you knew any. It kept one safe to agree with the general consensus, and she had never met anyone wanting to do research of their own. So Zephyr retained her warm smile and nodded. “You are too kind, Ira.” Her heart did sink though when he mentioned leaving. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel anxious; her chest tightened uncomfortably and her heart raced. “I… I think it would be wise to stay here for another day or so,” she suggested, nodding matter-of-factly, as if she had any medical knowledge. “And don’t worry, Pebble is in the safest hands I know. I just think it’s best if she doesn’t see you so injured,” Zephyr told him. It was mostly true, but she had conveniently left out details of Pebble’s own injury. “Come now, let’s just get you better. I can help, if you’ll let me.” Zephyr looked at him for a moment, and getting the feeling that it was alright, placed a hand over his bandage. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and let her healing energy work it’s magic on him.

[Ira Baranov]

Ira was surprised at how easily he had relaxed around Zephyr, when only a few minute ago he had been ready to fight his way out of the room. He still didn’t actively trust her, but as she had saved his and Pebble’s lives, two trespassers she had no reason to save and sought only to heal his wounds and not to keep him prisoner…well there was no point in actively distrusting her. He thought of it as trust limbo, that awkward stage of interaction where you didn’t know whether to let that feeling of comfort take over or to stick to your paranoid guns and keep your walls up. He didn’t want to get sucked into paranoia and let his thoughts cast her in a suspicious light; she could be using him for information, holding him hostage, using him for leverage…the list of threats was long. When she spoke of him staying longer it cast a shade of doubt over her motives for doing so—but when she asked to help him he didn’t resist, trying hard not to flinch at her touch when she placed her hand on his chest. He wasn’t used to human contact, and the touch of another human being felt so foreign to him. His heart sank at the realization at exactly how isolated his life had become, even after leaving the relative no man’s land of his father’s farm. Anxiety and loathing tightened in his chest so painfully his back arced upwards and lifted off the mattress. He felt Zephyr’s fingertips squeeze into his skin lightly, telling him to relax. He nodded to her even though she had her eyes closed; he was glad of that, at least. She wouldn’t see the embarrassment that was likely a plain as day blush on his cheeks. It also gave him an opportunity to read her face without those big green eyes staring back at him. He watched her even as warming sensation spread slowly from her palm, sending a chill through his body. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel at first, hands flexing at his sides. But slowly the warmth spread deeper into his muscles and the pain in his chest eased. He let out a soft sigh of relief as the anxiety dissipated leaving him feeling as if he was floating, except for the ever present pain where his right leg should be. It was a constant stabbing pain, as if his leg was still cramping even after it had been amputated. But the warming sensation washed over him in subtle waves until he felt—with a jolt of realization that sat him bolt upright—that that the pain in his missing leg had gone. A sharp gasp escaped him before he could stop it, breathlessly uttering “Boʐye moy,” My god. It had been nigh on fifteen years since that pain had eased. Years and years of a near constant leg cramp on a leg that had been gone for fifteen years. His breath came in short, shuddering gasps as his fingers trailed gently over his pant leg, mesmerized by the absence of pain. The ebbing pain slowly flowed back and he realized that Zephyr had pulled her hand away and was looking at him in concerned confusion. He grinned at her (quite madly, he assumed) and gently grasped her hand and held it to his chest, hand covering hers. “Do not stop, please. You see it is my leg, I was surprised because you…fixed it.” He drew in a deep breath before rapping a knuckle on his prosthetic limb, the hard knock letting her know what it was. “For fifteen years I have felt such pain, even though my leg is gone. Doctor call it, how you say prizrak, em—ghost limb,” He smiled at her in relief, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You are the only one to ease the pain. Thank you,” he said. "Thank you so much. It seems I am in your debt once again," he said with a laugh. “Though I do not mind to be in your debt, I think. But...do you mind if…if you could help a few more minutes?” he asked, suddenly aware that he was still holding her hand. He let his hand fall to his lap, his other hand gripping the fabric of his jeans, as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened. He hoped she wouldn’t refuse, as he didn’t know how this “healing” business worked, other than that it worked what to him seemed a miracle. ooc| wheeee

[Zephyr Woodwind]

Zephyr jumped back with a gasp as Ira suddenly sat up, and she looked him over with worry in her eyes, wondering if she’d managed to hurt him somehow. But his deranged grin said he was excited about something, and he asked her not to stop. Needless to say, she was confused and most certainly concerned, but she went with it, knowing he would soon explain –he didn’t seem the type to suddenly get so excited without a reason. She smiled and let out the slightest laugh as he held her hand to his chest. Just as she thought, he began to explain, and she watched in wonder as he knocked on his prosthetic leg. “Oh! I had no idea…” She murmured, reaching over and tapping the false limb with her unoccupied hand. Zephyr looked back at him in wonder and sadness, wondering what it must be like to be in constant pain for such a long time. “Of course I’ll help you,” She answered, smiling brightly to see him nearly glowing with happiness. “I’ve got to say that I didn’t even know I could heal the pain of such old wounds. I don’t know if the effect is permanent…” she said, moving her hand to his knee, just above where the prosthetic began. If her healing had worked that well from far away, she hoped that healing closer to the source would make the effect even stronger. “But you know where I’ll be if it comes back!” She added with a laugh; it seemed a jest of an offer, but Zephyr really did mean it. She let her healing energy flow through him again, not closing her eyes this time, but watching him, and the relief flooding his face. “How’s that?”

[Ira Baranov]

Her hand was on his leg just above his knee and all he felt was the spreading warmth from her touch as it seeped into his muscle and bone. It was a strange and unearthly sensation, but even so he was having trouble focusing on the world outside of his own thoughts—all he kept thinking was ‘It doesn’t hurt’. The thought seemed to echo and he knew he would be smiling like a loon if it wasn’t for the shock of pure and utter relief. It was hard to believe that after nearly 15 years of sharp, lancing pain from a leg that wasn’t even there was simply…gone. And all because of Zephyr, this strange half-shifter-half-animal woman. When she was done, Ira’s eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring at her in nothing short of amazement; she seemed in that moment of sheer undiluted peace of mind and body to be an unearthly creature sent to heal him. His father would have called her an angel of god, and though he himself was not a religious man he had to admit this Zephyr seemed to fit the part. She had saved not only his life, but that of Pebble’s. And now she alone proved capable of soothing the pain that had tortured him for so long. It seemed in that moment that she was capable of working miracles, in his eyes at least. That feeling of giddy lunacy returned and reached his face, his cracked lips breaking into a wide grin. “Better,” he rasped out at last, with a laugh. “To say that though is an understatement. I feel as if I were back home on the farm again with my father, as if it never happened.” His smile fell for a moment as memories of his father’s farm engulfed him. His eyes flickered back up to hers, and he thought he saw a flash of concern in those bright green eyes of hers. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as she brought his smile back. “You have done more for me today than anyone has in a long time,” he murmured, reaching out a hand and laying it on hers, giving it a soft squeeze. “I can not truly express how much this means to me.” ooc| wow finally. DAY 4 OF POST A DAY!

[Zephyr Woodwind]

Zephyr carefully watched Ira’s face as she healed him, watching the furrow in his brow relax and the tension evaporate from his face. He was suddenly so light, almost beaming. She felt her stomach twist in a funny way and she looked away for a moment, cutting off the healing. It was just as well, since he seemed to be ecstatic with how effective it was. “I..I’m glad,” She told him, looking back at his smiling face. Her stomach did that weird little flip again, but she stifled it, and only smiled calmly back at him. This was all very well, but he was still a Fulsi, and she was still the leader of the Nakoma. She needed to show some sort of restraint, didn’t she? She felt a twinge of guilt as she glanced at the exit, and then back to Ira. He was apparently pain-free for the first time in a very, very long time. She was happy for him, delighted that she could make such a difference. Ira placed his hand on hers and she had to stare down at it for a moment. She smiled before she knew she had. “Perhaps one day I might understand,” Zephyr told him softly, part of her holding onto the idea that she might still learn more about this mysterious Fulsi man sometime. “But not today,” she finished, reluctantly pulling her hand away and standing up again. Ira had probably had more than his share of excitement for the day, she thought, while shoving away the thought that it wasn’t Ira she was so concerned about. “You need to get your rest or you’ll be stuck here with me forever!” Zephyr laughed, and took a few steps from the cot toward the exit. Before she could turn the corner, she glanced back at the ecstatic, befuddled farmer once more. “I’m glad you feel better, Ira.” In truth, she felt better too. ooc; idk END?