On the Mend. [Ira] [C] Mar 16, 2013 23:58:02 GMT -5
Post by Zephyr Woodwind on Mar 16, 2013 23:58:02 GMT -5
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.”