The two brothers often fought; sometimes they fought each other, but just as often fought other lycans.
The brothers were escorted by Channing. Channing was about a year younger than Calista, and when he was younger, he’d been a sweet child. But the rowdy brothers had taken the pup under their wings and were teaching him to be rougher. Calista kind of understood that he needed to toughen up to survive in the wilderness, but she didn’t think he needed to also be an asshole. Gunnolf was the same age as Harou, and Rannulf was between them and Bardoul in age.
Calista wondered why they were still here. Not at the clinic; clearly Channing forced them to come have their wounds tended. No, Calista wondered why they were still with the pack. They were overly aggressive, and should have dispersed from the pack to seek their fortunes elsewhere. She wished they had, because then they wouldn’t bother her so much.
The pair of brothers had spent the past five years alternating between trying to impress her and trying to bully her into taking one of them as a mate. She had rejected them outright, making it perfectly clear with plain language that she was not, and would not ever, be interested in them. And yet, they persisted! It was galling.
The silver-haired healer took a deep breath and slowly let out through her nose. She forced a bright smile onto her face and held open the door to let them into the clinic part of the house.
“Hello, beautiful,” Rannulf grinned. Gunnolf glared at him sullenly. Calista ignored them.
“I won’t ask what you’ve been up to. Just sit down, and try not to bleed on the area rug,” she said flatly. Channing guffawed softly, his face turned away to hide his amusement.
The brothers sat, and Channing leaned against the door frame. Calista tried to ignore him. He always made her sad, thinking about the little brother she’d lost, because his name was similar to her brother’s.
The herbalist collected a tub of numbing gel, and approached the wounded lycans. Gunnolf tried to snag her waist with his good arm as she approached. Calista whirled out of his reach and glared at him. She turned and approached Rannulf first. Rannulf’s yellow eyes lit up when she chose to tend him first. She ignored the hope in his gaze.
“Shirt off,” she reminded him. He obliged with a wide grin, which she also ignored. Pulling his shirt off one-handed resulted in his brown and silver streaked hair sticking out in all directions, statically charged by the rubbing of the wool shirt across it. She cleared her throat so she wouldn’t laugh at how ridiculous he looked.
Calista smeared the numbing gel over Rannulf’s cuts on his arms and chest. She fetched her needles and gut thread and sat next to Rannulf so she could stitch up the deeper cuts. Lycans had remarkable regenerative abilities, but they still needed a little help sometimes. Deep cuts could heal poorly and leave large, ropy scars that could interfere with movement. It was best to stitch them up so the edges could reconnect properly. Done well, medical assistance with bad wounds could completely prevent scarring.
When the lycan’s wounds were stitched up, she fetched him a tea packet and slapped it against his sternum.
“Drink that tonight before you sleep. It’ll help prevent any infection from setting in. The numbing gel is antiseptic, but better safe than sorry.”
Rannulf nodded, giving her a sheepish look as he accepted the tea and rubbed his chest, where a small red mark was forming from the force with which Calista smacked the packet against him.
With Rannulf done, she turned to glare at Gunnolf. He was by far the worst behaved of the three. When Gunnolf wasn’t around, Rannulf was almost tolerable. Almost.
“If you touch me, I won’t bother with the numbing gel,” she threatened.
“Alright, alright,” Gunnolf said, flashing her an insincere grin. Calista’s hazel eyes narrowed as she stared into his yellow ones with suspicion. Gunnolf ran his uninjured hand through his silver hair, exposing the black underneath it. He liked to compare his hair color to hers, but his wolf was mostly black, with silver only on his back, sides, and the top of his head. His hair was more different from hers than he wanted to admit.
Calista cautiously moved towards him as he took off his shirt, numbing gel in hand, when she felt a pinch on her backside. She whirled with a snarl, glaring daggers at Rannulf as he pulled back his hand with a smug expression.
“You already numbed me,” he said with mock innocence.
“Do that again and I’ll numb you permanently,” she threatened. His expression said he didn’t really believe her. She didn’t really blame him. She was a townie. She’d only ever fought with Harou, and these males didn’t even know about that. In their eyes, she must appear helpless. Before she could continue that thought, the door to the main house opened.
Bardoul stepped out, and fixed the three pack lycans with a stern glare. He leaned on the door frame, mimicking Channing’s relaxed pose. Channing, for his part, wisely straightened up and gave the older male a chagrined look.
“Everything alright in here?” Bardoul asked calmly.
“Yes, it’s fine,” Calista said, shooting her brother a thankful look.
She turned back to Gunnolf, who was now scowling at her brother. She roughly slapped the numbing gel on a deep bite mark over his collar bone, making him wince. His expression turned sheepish as his yellow gaze fixed on her. When she’d numbed all his wounds, she set to work stitching up the cuts that really needed it. When that was done, she tossed a tea packet at Gunnolf, who caught it.
Calista looked at Channing.
“Do you need any treatment?” she asked, tone strained.
The young lycan shook his head and offered a fleeting, apologetic smile.
“The fight was between them. I just made them take responsibility.”
Calista shrugged, and looked at the two brothers.
“Well, you got what you came for, so you can go.”
“What if that’s not what we came for?” Gunnolf asked suggestively. Bardoul growled, and Gunnolf stilled. He looked at Bardoul, sizing up the older male. Bardoul may not have grown up wild, but he was fit, strong, and well muscled. He certainly looked like he could hold his own in a fight, regardless of whether or not he actually could. Gunnolf decided, again, that it wasn’t worth the risk. The three troublemakers left, and Calista breathed a sigh of relief. Bardoul left the clinic area, and Calista set to sanitizing the area.
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