unto me

Aine was too close to the sun, and she got burned. Her temper rose with her frustration as the pane in her punctured hind leg burned and ached with every step. She barely put any weight on it, a sharp pain shooting up her leg anytime she tried. Blood trickled out of the wound and down her ankle, onto her paw and littering the forest floor around her. The russet femme was not only injured, but hungry - her misfortune layered into a pretty little inedible meal - making it hard for the girl to get any sort of food in her stomach.

The sweet smell hit her a moment later. Salmon tongue licked her lips as her maw started to produce drool at the scent. What was that? She had never smelled it before. Aine limped toward the smell, her progress painfully slow. She came to a tree with rotten fruit littering the group. Lips lifted in disgust. Aine shouldn't have expected anything different considering they were just getting out of the snowy season and onto spring. This produce was from fall and the wolf was sure there were some sort of rotten bugs in there. She was silent as she turned away, silently rejected the fruit, her muzzle hovering near the ground to see if there were any other scents she could catch that would help fill her belly.

Perhaps there was a river nearby where she could cleanse her leg and catch fish. She doubted it. Her luck was down lately, but you would never hear her complaining about it. Woe was the life of a rogue. 

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This was further from the island than she wished to be.

Yet she knew that her siren would be safe there still, even if it pained her to be apart for the night. Perhaps she would travel through it so that she might return in the light. An exhausting thought, but one well worth it for those who waited.

However something her snagged her attention harder for the moment. Blood upon the wisteria's floor, dotted and moving onward. A horrible trail. Who walked with the bleeding injury? What had caused the injury?

It was not safe to forge onward with so little knowledge, but she did. She winded the blood trail until she spotted someone. Russet and feminine. No sign of who or what may have hurt the stranger. Not a snarling, ravaging beast or an angered wolf here to strike. Only two strangers.

“Are you headed somewhere particular like that?”

And although the words hardly sounded nice, she meant them kindly. For she could see no reason to forge onward unless it was with a very strong purpose.

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Unbeknownst to the sailor, the sea-witch was also far from the island, upon the mainland once more. There had been no concerted effort to follow her lover — the word mate still lingered far from her mind, as if she was hesitant to break a tenuous glass ceiling, to shatter something that felt too good to be true — but once she had found the woman's scent, it was hard to resist the temptation to follow it, not unlike a male drawn in by a sirensong.

This place felt magical, and if she were not so enraptured by their own sect of the island, Esmerelda might have found herself making a home here, among the trees that dripped colors and flowers. It was beautiful, yes, but not quite as beautiful as the tide washing up on their white sanded beach, reaching to touch their verdant hills. She was paying so much attention to the woodlands that Esme didn't realize she'd come upon the sailor and whoever it was that was...

Bleeding?

Drawing shoulder to shoulder with the grey-pelted sea-venturer, periwinkle eyes peered at the injured woman with some form of concern. “And have you had any medical attention?” She added onto Wake's inquiry.

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Aine neared the water, the bank softening beneath her paws as she neared it. The smell of fresh water was enticing and she adjusted her hind end until she had shifted her weight comfortable to be able to bend down and lap at the water. It was refreshing and helped cool the burn that seemed to travel down her leg. What she needed to do was clean it in the river and [i]hopefully[/q] find some good. The russet and cream femme remained realistic with the thought that she might go to bed hungry that night.

Hears shifted backward before she stepped further down the bank and into the water. Her head snapped back, ears perked forward at the one wolf coming toward her followed quickly by another. Their scents floated to her, mingling together as if they lived together perhaps, though it didn’t seem like they were traveling together at the moment. Had she passed some pack border she was unaware of? Aine backed up, hopping awkwardly until she could turn and face the first female with the pale emerald eyes and dark gray fur that reminded Aine of storm clouds.

She couldn’t answer her question as the other female also directed a question at her. This one was pale, like summer clouds over a field of lavender. That was the color of her eyes. Where one was a storm, the other was a spring day. Aine took a moment to take them in, evaluating them and the way they stood, the way they built off each other so comfortably. At the very least, they knew each other.

“Food. I need to eat,” she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral yet friend. She tipped her head toward the water, indicating that she was hoping to get fish. At least, it was the easier meal to catch than rabbit. She paused for a second, then Aine’s molten gold eyes turned to the second female. The one that personified a fluffy and calm cloud. “Not yet. I figured a dip in the water would help cleanse it. Aide is hard to come across as a rogue. Is this your land?” she asked, glancing between the two of them. “Did I, perhaps, miss some marker?”

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Unexpected, but never unwelcomed.

Her spine straightened ever so slightly with the close proximity of her lover. More to defend now, no? Not that this injured woman seemed like she'd stand much of a chance if she turned volatile. And perhaps the kinder touches of the sea mystic by her side might keep the peace among them all.

For Wake had certainly not been prepared to offer medical aide.

“We're out at sea,” A loose gesture with her head back towards the coast. Yet they were even beyond the coast, on their piece of the island.

“I can fish...” Yet her gaze turned upon Esme, looking for a sign that she might think it bad or that she wished for other plans.

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They complimented each other well, stern and caring, rough and gentle; just as the sea had many facets, so did the pair of sea-faring women. Make no mistake, Esmerelda had teeth and was certainly no stranger to using them, but in this particular moment, she could be the caring creature that was needed. “We are building a home there, not here,” She explained, adding on to Wake's explanation. Perhaps this one would be suitable to run alongside them, once she could put weight on that leg anyway.

She would nod to her companion's non-verbal question, the slightest smile finding its way to her face. “If you need help cleaning it, I could assist. If you have any knowledge of healing, I could find herbs for you...?” For she, unfortunately, knew very little about healing and everything that surrounded it. Poisons, she was much more familiar with, but healing, not so much.

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