Xola || 6 || Female || Wolf || Eastern Medic || M: Killjoy, Ráðgríðr, Hondo, Illusion, River, Astronomy, Night
As Killjoy takes the herbs presented to him, the night-pelted female looks over her handy work once more, ensuring that she missed nothing on either wolf. A mistake in the wild was costly, after all. So she couldn’t allow anything to pass by her keen eye. Though, her focus was broken as she finally realized the reaction the alpha had to the dandelions – brought to her attention by the dear. Ráðgríðr.
“Killjoy,” she begins with a harsh and stern tone, “I expect better from an alpha such as yourself. Your health is not to be taken lightly.”
Her striking honey-amber eyes bore into his brown and black pelt, shining with nothing but disappointment. However, this gaze was shattered by the entry of a returning wolf at the camp’s entrance – surprise overtaking the previous emotion. Taking a peek out her den, she spots a creamy-coated female who she, yet again, did not know. The medic had seen her around camp before, but never caught her name. That was a trend that was getting very old at this point.
She was shouting for the alpha, announcing the presence of a cougar that had… Oh dear.
Xola’s ears pin back at the news. Two dead packmates. From one attack. Oh, she could already imagine the damage done to their poor forms. Honestly, she could never understand such senseless violence from any creature. What did the cougar have to gain from killing these two innocents other than a small decrease in competitors and a whole pack out for their head? They did not typically consume the flesh of adult wolves, after all. So what drove this one to create what she could naturally assume to be a horrific scene? A small voice echoed in the back of her mind – one as unpleasant as it could possibly be.
You could have saved them, the voice rang with whispering and purring malice, teasing her for the outcome of a situation she had no part in, they could still be alive, if not for you. You did this. You-
The charcoal female shakes her head (and whole body) of these despicable thoughts, No. I had no way of knowing any of this upon just entering the pack. Their deaths were nothing beyond unfortunate circumstances.
Taking a small breath, she turns to enter back into her den (having earlier only moved to let the scout inside to speak with the alpha)… only for a certain patient of hers to blaze on by the moment she stepped foot into it. Looking over her shoulder in shock, she stares at the young alpha in disbelief. At his prompt announcement, her expression turns sharp. But, before she could initially say anything to him while he was near, he was off yet again – bounding for the camp entrance.
Turning quickly in place, she snarls after him and exits her den once more. She does not chase after him though, as she still had another wolf to attend to.
“Alpha Killjoy,” her voice was still soft despite her obvious anger, “get your sorry tail back here! You’re not fit for such an encounter!”
Her demand falls on deaf ears, much to her annoyance. Her ears once more flatten upon her head, this time showing signs of obvious anger. Oh, she was going to give him the scold of a lifetime when he got back. That was for certain.
The male from before was quick to follow the alpha (much to her silent thanks), but she makes no remark towards him. Instead, she turned back to her den and stalked inside. But not without a harsh snort. Turning her attention to the other injured (and thankfully wise) wolf, she goes back to her check up – seeing nothing out of place or missed wounds. Good. That was at least one less task off her plate.
Stepping away from the autumn-coated beta, Xola begins to pace about – a constant yet somehow soft snarl rumbling in her throat at all times. Her tail swished in agitation, creating gentle drafts of air pushed leaf or two of her supplies around. Her ears – which had remained pinned since the alpha’s departure– were still in that angered position. Only growing tighter as time went on.
“If I had known that our alpha was such an irresponsible pup, I would have been a bit stricter with my prescription,” she begins, “I mean, what wolf runs out of the medic’s den to go face a cougar while injured. He could earn himself even more injuries. Or even worse, a subscription to death…” The swishing of her tail intensifies the more she talks, brewing anger stewing at the tip of her tongue as all the words flew out. Every once in a while, she would glance towards her patient to see if she was boring or annoying her with all this rambling. But, if she saw any, it didn’t deter her. She just had to get this off her chest. Goodness knows that she would not say this to Killjoy himself. She wouldn’t want to hurt him in that manner, nor get herself on his bad side. However, she knew better than to let these thoughts and feelings fester.
“Brushing aside a medic’s orders is no laughing matter. It is dangerous, rather. Better yet, ignorant. Not only do they put themselves at risk, but they undermine the whole purpose of the role in a way! At this point, I may as well not be here if my diagnosis is going to be cast out the window like that.”
Halting in her movements and rant, she closes her eyes – angling her head towards the ground with her ears finally being released from their downcast position. She takes a deep breath and she steadies herself. Opening her eyes once again, she glances over to the beta. Embarrassment began to prickle at the bottom of her heart as the realization had taken hold, the fur of her cheeks standing up. She had let her emotions get the better of her.
Fixing her stance to be much more professional, she turns to face Rags, “I’m sorry, my dear. That was quite unprofessional of me. I did not mean to talk your ear off, I just… needed to get that off my chest, I presume.”
A call for her presence was soon taking up her main focus as yet another unfamiliar male poked his head into her den. This one with green-golden eyes. Once again, there were injuries to be treated. With a soft and almost impossible to hear sigh, the female turns to exit her den.
“Of course, dear. Thank you for alerting me to the trouble.”
Padding out of her den, she spies three injured wolves before her. Two wolves that carried the scent of another pack stood outside of her den, the stench of blood and vile stank of cougar were apparent as well. Her eyes perk forward at the sight of their injuries, rushing forth to once more get an initial viewing of them – but being respectful of personal boundaries this time. The female had quite the number of claw marks on her as well as what seemed to be reopened gashes on her shoulder. Those would have to be taken care of quickly. The other, a male, was soaked with river water and had a few scratches himself. Nothing compared to his companion though.
Not a second after she finished her check up, another injured wolf – the male she’d yet to apologize to be specific – walked in with a dark-pelted wolf that she also did not know of. Her pack mate had clear-as-day piercings around his foreleg, the sign of a trap’s cut. Moving past the two newcomers, she trots up to the pair and leans down to sniff his leg.
“You won’t be able to do much for a while,” she notes off the bat, “this cut is deep. Come, you must lay down in my den.”
Like a ping-pong ball being hit back and forth, she once more strides towards her den – motioning for the other two wolves to follow her. However, she pauses in her movements upon being addressed by the male who had brought her packmate back to the camp. His request (albeit, a teasing one directed towards what she could only assume was his packmate) was a simple one. And one that she could easily adhere to.
Looking over her shoulder, Xola nods her head as best she could with a gentle smile. Though, it was one that still carried a hit of annoyance to it – even if it wasn’t directed to the large male before her.
“Of course, I’m not going to let any of my patiences go anywhere without some sort of assistance. Especially with those injuries and that cougar about. I know just who to send with them.”
A flash of brown and black catches her eye at the end of her answer. Her smile drops in an instant as the anger from before prances its way back into her bones. Killjoy had just reentered the camp and he now had quite the obvious limp. Boy was he in trouble.
Taking no mind of the departing Raven Alpha, she sends a harsh and stern glare towards the childish wolf. Very much unimpressed with his little “performance” from before.
Bring out her inner mother-hen, she raises her head to amplify her naturally quiet voice, “Killjoy! Come here this instant! I want to have a word with you!”
Her approach to the shout was that of a mother ready to chew her child’s ear out. Angry and displeased, with a slight hint of shock and worry. She stares after him for a second or two to see if he heard her, and does not relent until he looks towards her. With a swing of her tail, she beckons him to follow her back into the den. Though, she sticks around for not a second longer as she leads the others into the area and directs them towards their respective areas. And allowing some to lean on her if need be.
Summer 
Night Weather: 
Brimstone Moon: 
