12-27-2017, 05:50 AM
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:9.3pt; line-height:1.3"]He supposed they all felt it before it happened, but that didn't make Pip any more prepared than he would have been without the sudden klaxon blare of danger filling his head. What herbs he had spent so long amassing were left behind, so all that he had was a satchel of dwindling supplies that couldn't be enough for everyone injured. He wasn't certain how many herbs he could find growing on the mountain, especially with so much of the vegetation suffering from the destruction. They were all suffering, and a flash of indignant rage burned hot in his chest at the humans' foolishness. Their ability to destroy the world had been affirmed for so long- they didn't need to make another display and rush the gradual process they'd started however long ago. What were they supposed to do now? What kind of life were they meant to scrape out on this mountain? Pip tried for optimism, but he was rocked to his core and could barely push beyond numbness for more than a few moments. His paws worked automatically, applying ointments and pressure to wounds while his mind played images of those he couldn't save on repeat. He ached deeply for these people, many wandering aimlessly, others bent over bodies, unable to move.
Pip was terrified, and without Grim, there was no one to look to for a grounding presence. He knew he was alive- he refused to believe that Grim wasn't stubborn enough to make it through this, even though his brain helpfully chimed in that no one was stubborn enough to survive a bomb. Pip ignored it. The younger canine was fine, probably somewhere on this very mountain, and he would find him as soon as he finished tending to this cat's children. Their small limbs were scraped, and one kitten's leg sat at an awkward angle. It was just a dislocation, but on a child...No more of that. He could do this- he'd learned enough from Morse to take care of these kids. So he worked as quickly as he dared, murmuring sweet nothings, which only had an impact because their mother supported the encouragement spoken. It was difficult, ignoring their small flinches and cries, and he supposed it didn't help that he smelled of blood and death.
Stumbling away once he'd finished and given instructions of rest to the mother, Pip rested against a stone nearby the stream. There were others requiring assistance here, and other healers tending to them, but already he knew he could not rest long. He straightened and began to head toward a doe when there was a touch at his leg. When he looked, it was a small bird he had helped earlier, and he nodded his head, waiting for news about some other animals needed help. Instead, he received something very different: Grim was looking for him. Grim was alive. If he were responsible, he'd go back to his duties, but with a burst of energy, he bounded in the direction he was pointed in. It didn't take him long to hone in on the familiar wolfdog ahead, speaking to a few others, probably organizing something in agreement with the tiger's directions. "Grim!" He realized he looked terrible, covered in dirt and blood and who knew what else, but checking on Grim was more important than cleaning up. "Grim, are you all right? Your face..." He drew up short, brown and blue eyes scanning his features. His wounds weren't grievous, but Pip worried. He couldn't help it, and with the sudden influx of relief, he pitched forward into the wolfdog's chest. "I knew you were too stubborn."
Pip was terrified, and without Grim, there was no one to look to for a grounding presence. He knew he was alive- he refused to believe that Grim wasn't stubborn enough to make it through this, even though his brain helpfully chimed in that no one was stubborn enough to survive a bomb. Pip ignored it. The younger canine was fine, probably somewhere on this very mountain, and he would find him as soon as he finished tending to this cat's children. Their small limbs were scraped, and one kitten's leg sat at an awkward angle. It was just a dislocation, but on a child...No more of that. He could do this- he'd learned enough from Morse to take care of these kids. So he worked as quickly as he dared, murmuring sweet nothings, which only had an impact because their mother supported the encouragement spoken. It was difficult, ignoring their small flinches and cries, and he supposed it didn't help that he smelled of blood and death.
Stumbling away once he'd finished and given instructions of rest to the mother, Pip rested against a stone nearby the stream. There were others requiring assistance here, and other healers tending to them, but already he knew he could not rest long. He straightened and began to head toward a doe when there was a touch at his leg. When he looked, it was a small bird he had helped earlier, and he nodded his head, waiting for news about some other animals needed help. Instead, he received something very different: Grim was looking for him. Grim was alive. If he were responsible, he'd go back to his duties, but with a burst of energy, he bounded in the direction he was pointed in. It didn't take him long to hone in on the familiar wolfdog ahead, speaking to a few others, probably organizing something in agreement with the tiger's directions. "Grim!" He realized he looked terrible, covered in dirt and blood and who knew what else, but checking on Grim was more important than cleaning up. "Grim, are you all right? Your face..." He drew up short, brown and blue eyes scanning his features. His wounds weren't grievous, but Pip worried. He couldn't help it, and with the sudden influx of relief, he pitched forward into the wolfdog's chest. "I knew you were too stubborn."
[align=center][div style="font-size:13.7pt; height:27px; color:#f4c95d; line-height:14px;"][font=georgia]I LOVE THOSE DEAR HEARTS AND GENTLE PEOPLE
[size=9pt]WHO LIVE AND LOVE IN MY HOME TOWN // AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD, 11 MONTHS
[size=9pt]WHO LIVE AND LOVE IN MY HOME TOWN // AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD, 11 MONTHS