I would not ever want Avesta to ask my forgiveness. I did not want her apologies, spoken or not; our regrets were not made for laying bare, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I felt godlike enough to be able to keep my sister still, to turn her eyes from death and the sea. It felt holy just to wash the blood from her skin, and in better times to walk beside her.
“A unicorn of the sea who thought himself master of it.”
I made a sound of distaste. A hissing through my teeth, like a cottonmouth. It was the first time I sounded more like a snake than a wolf, and not much (if at all) a unicorn. “What a fool,” I murmured with a quiet little laugh that flirted with hysteria. Fool on many fronts: fool for thinking himself a master of anything, let alone the sea, and fool for laying touch to my sister. There was nothing else for him, no future but ruin. I knew it as sure as I knew my name.
And just as I understood all the things she was not saying, I knew she would understand all the promises I did not speak. The lengths I would go, unstoppable, for her.
Furfur rejoined us then. I offered my sister a severe nod, an unspoken agreement that this would not be forgotten, this would not ever be forgotten until it was laid to rest, and then I returned to the mending.
My wolf had taken a small ceramic kettle (I’ve no idea where he found it) and put the rosinweed in the hot water to carry it to us. This was good, as I needed the plants to soak and soften. I took the leggy plant and separated the roots from the thick stems. For a second I faltered- I needed to grind the roots but I had no mortar. The solution was easy enough: I put the roots between my teeth, chewed them to a pulp, then spit it out and gently pressed the mash into my sister’s wounds. The soaked leaves I used as a kind of bandage, pressed over the poultice to keep it close to her skin. In all honesty I was winging this last part. I had some hope that the leaves, when they dried, would stick like a bandage... Really I just had not thought so far ahead as covering the wound. I was far from a field medic.
“It should help with the pain and the bleeding,” I offered quietly as I worked. My self-doubt wavered- I reckoned rosinweed was not the best analgesic to use, but it should be good enough for now. Already the bleeding had slowed, if only for the pressure I applied to the wound. The shoreline reached for us restlessly, and each time it drew back it was with waters that were more and more clear.
I looked up and into the sea, which I found complacent in the events that had unfolded. What had it done but watch with greed, and welcome back with open arms the unicorn who shed my sister’s blood? I shook my head and returned my gaze to my sister, letting the anger come and go like the tides. “Rest now, and later I’ll take you to a proper healer.”
a s p a r a
“A unicorn of the sea who thought himself master of it.”
I made a sound of distaste. A hissing through my teeth, like a cottonmouth. It was the first time I sounded more like a snake than a wolf, and not much (if at all) a unicorn. “What a fool,” I murmured with a quiet little laugh that flirted with hysteria. Fool on many fronts: fool for thinking himself a master of anything, let alone the sea, and fool for laying touch to my sister. There was nothing else for him, no future but ruin. I knew it as sure as I knew my name.
And just as I understood all the things she was not saying, I knew she would understand all the promises I did not speak. The lengths I would go, unstoppable, for her.
Furfur rejoined us then. I offered my sister a severe nod, an unspoken agreement that this would not be forgotten, this would not ever be forgotten until it was laid to rest, and then I returned to the mending.
My wolf had taken a small ceramic kettle (I’ve no idea where he found it) and put the rosinweed in the hot water to carry it to us. This was good, as I needed the plants to soak and soften. I took the leggy plant and separated the roots from the thick stems. For a second I faltered- I needed to grind the roots but I had no mortar. The solution was easy enough: I put the roots between my teeth, chewed them to a pulp, then spit it out and gently pressed the mash into my sister’s wounds. The soaked leaves I used as a kind of bandage, pressed over the poultice to keep it close to her skin. In all honesty I was winging this last part. I had some hope that the leaves, when they dried, would stick like a bandage... Really I just had not thought so far ahead as covering the wound. I was far from a field medic.
“It should help with the pain and the bleeding,” I offered quietly as I worked. My self-doubt wavered- I reckoned rosinweed was not the best analgesic to use, but it should be good enough for now. Already the bleeding had slowed, if only for the pressure I applied to the wound. The shoreline reached for us restlessly, and each time it drew back it was with waters that were more and more clear.
I looked up and into the sea, which I found complacent in the events that had unfolded. What had it done but watch with greed, and welcome back with open arms the unicorn who shed my sister’s blood? I shook my head and returned my gaze to my sister, letting the anger come and go like the tides. “Rest now, and later I’ll take you to a proper healer.”
@Avesta <3
