TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of grievous injuries, blood, medical discussion
The pack's speed had greatly diminished by the time they found a decent place to recover; a shallow cave surrounded by fallen tree branches. Gunner and Diesel had both dragged Max by the scruff of his neck and placed him in the dip of the cave.
When everyone shifted back into their human forms, the injuries the pack had received became far more apparent. They all sat in a loose semi-circle on the fallen branches.
"Well, that was a fucking disaster," Fluffy huffed, licking at the scratch on the back of his hand instinctively. Sparky leaned his head on his shoulder and gave nothing but a sigh, for once too exhausted to come up with a retort.
Sparky, Fluffy, and Rambo had received the least egregious injuries, with mostly scratches and bite marks that bled in thin rivulets, but were otherwise fine. Ollie's face had been scratched, but fortunately he'd been struck on the side of his face with no vision.
Titan had broken his left leg, leaving a bone sticking out just barely far enough to not break any skin, and whined and curled in on himself under a tree after Ollie set it back into place.
Diesel sat next to him, caressing his back and his hair to calm him down. "No shit. I almost thought we were gonna die."
Diesel himself had gotten a massive bite on his neck, which nearly threatened to bleed him out, but he managed to wrap the wound in some fabric from his shirt. He absently touched the spot of his injury, and sighed. "What are we going to do now?"
"We're not doing anything until we heal," Gunner walked out of the cave where Max lay, and looked around. "We just have to hope no one else finds us until then. We just need a break."
Ollie sat on a fallen trunk, treating his own injury with a salve, and looking up at Gunner with concern. He'd been going around treating everyone's injuries, and his face gave away his thinning patience and exhaustion. "Your face needs some help."
Gunner squinted down at him. "Gee, thanks."
"You know what I mean. Those marks-"
"I'll live," Gunner insisted, "Max needs all the help he can get over the next few days, so save your supplies for him."
"In the meantime, someone needs to step up and be an alpha," Rambo stood and pulled a massive branch from the pile, swinging it from side to side as if to test its weight. "If any more scum-shifters try and approach us again, they'll catch a mouthful of this."
"I don't even have the energy to tell you how dumb that is," Fluffy said.
Sparky glanced at him. "It's the thought that counts."
During all of this, Biscuit quietly sat in the corner, a short distance from the commotion. The wounds on his stomach, the ones his uncle Samson had dug into him, had gone numb and were bleeding even more heavily than before from all of the walking. He felt light-headed and nauseous, and doubted that he could stand up without wobbling, but stayed quiet for fear of bringing too much attention to himself.
"Hey," Biscuit looked to Ollie, who smiled at him. "Thank you for helping back there."
"I had to. If I didn't, you were probably going to die."
"Well, duh. That's exactly why I'm thanking you." Ollie smiled at him, but his face melted to concern as he saw Biscuit's paling complexion. "Uh, are you okay? You look sick."
"I'm fine," Biscuit lied. He'd known what it was like to get too sickly in a large group. If they find out something is wrong with you, they'll leave you to fend for yourself. Biscuit found that he was very good at pretending.
Or he thought he was good at pretending. Ollie didn't let up or look away, though. Instead, he walked over, sat next to Biscuit, and lifted up his shirt. The motion unsettled the scratches and Biscuit hissed in pain.
"You're hurt!" Ollie immediately opened up his bag and started pulling out his supplies again. "God, how long have you been like this?!"
"Wait, what?!" Sparky sat up immediately and walked over to Biscuit, which prompted Fluffy to look at them as well, which inadvertently got Gunner's attention, and, soon enough, everyone in the pack was looking at the two of them. Even Titan looked up from his spot on the ground to look over.
"Dude!" Diesel scolded, his tone more angry than usual, "Why didn't you say anything?"
"You've been hurt and you didn't tell anybody?" Sparky scolded.
"That was really stupid," Fluffy reprimanded.
Even Rambo shook his head disapprovingly.
"It's not a big deal," Biscuit weakly defended, "I'm not that hurt."
"What are you talking about?!" Ollie started applying salve to his clawed wounds, shaking his head. "The torso is where all your vital organs are. If you get injured there, it needs to be treated right away."
"It's your medicine," Biscuit bit through his teeth, as he pushed Ollie's hands away. "You should use it on your pack members, not me. I don't need any help. I'm fine on my own."
There was a brief moment of awkward silence, and Biscuit immediately regretted his words. The other shifters looked between each other, not knowing how to proceed.
Rambo cleared his throat. "Just take the assistance, son. Stubbornness will only get you killed."
"But-" Biscuit tried to protest, but the others spoke over him.
"Absolutely!" Sparky placed his hands on his hips. "You need our help, so just take it.:
"Yeah, don't be dumb, man," Fluffy said.
Gunner stood by coolly, before walking closer to where Biscuit and Ollie sat. "As long as you're with us, you follow our rules. End of discussion."
Biscuit froze, then nodded his head.
Biscuit had to admit that he felt better once Ollie had finished patching him up. The two sat quietly, side-by-side, as Ollie put his supplies back into his bag. Everyone else had nodded off to sleep, save for the two of them, and Gunner, who sat by the lip of Max's cave.
"You know," Ollie said, "I actually think you fit in well with us."
"Why?" Biscuit asked it quietly, trying not to sound accusatory.
"Rambo called you stubborn, but, to be honest, all of us can be pretty stubborn. Maybe that's why we've stayed alive together for so long. We're all too stubborn to die."
"How long have you been with these guys?"
"Four years, since I was fifteen. I had another pack, but..." Ollie trailed off, looking down. Biscuit didn't push; he knew what it was like to not want to talk about the past.
"You have us now," Gunner spoke up, looking at the ground. "That's what counts."
There was a moment of quiet before Ollie spoke up again. "Gunner, during that fight, you... acted like you recognized those other shifters."
"I did," Gunner looked up, his yellow eyes glinting and baring straight into Biscuit's own. "I'd seen them eight years ago. I thought I'd left them behind, but I guess they followed me here."
"How did you know them?" Biscuit asked, sweat collecting on his brow. He knew who that enemy pack had been, but he didn't dare say it aloud, for fear of unsettling the hunch he already had.
"They are the Harvesters. They were the ones who killed my family. My pack."
All three fell silent. Biscuit's hands felt clammy.
"I'm so sorry," Ollie said.
Gunner was quiet as he walked over and sat next to him, petting his hair. "I've grown quite a bit since then. But the thought of getting back at them still lingers. It was pretty nice to tear into that monster's neck."
Biscuit cringed at the mention of his uncle's death. He certainly didn't miss his old family, but the flashback to the horror show wasn't pleasant.
Ollie sighed. "Let's not get too wrapped up in revenge fantasies, okay? You should really let me treat your eye."
Gunner rolled his eyes. "I already told you-"
"Oh, come on. You guys can't get angry at Biscuit-" he gestured vaguely to the shifter in question, who shrank at the mention of his name, "-for not accepting help and then refuse it yourself. I've got plenty of supplies to go around."
Gunner sighed. "Alright, fine. Go ahead."
As Ollie did just that, Gunner glanced up at Biscuit, who shrank under his gaze.
For some reason, Biscuit found himself quite intimidated by this shifter; not necessarily afraid of him (he'd been quite afraid of other wolves before), but simply... wary.
Gunner spoke. "Where are you from? Really from?"
Biscuit clammed up. "I just travel a lot. I don't have a pack or anything."
He hummed. "That explains it. You remind me of myself at your age. I didn't want to trust anybody either. Other people were too complicated, it seemed."
Gunner's gaze shifted to the cave Max was in, and, his normally stony expression softened. "But then I realized that wasn't it. Other people weren't too complicated. My life had just been too simple with just me in it."
"You're done," Ollie interrupted, leaning back to see his work. The bite marks on Gunner's face had been on the opposite side of his other scars, evening out his face in a strange way.
Gunner grinned and tussled Ollie's hair. He briefly made eye contact with Biscuit before looking back. "Thank you. The two of you should rest. I'll keep watch."
Biscuit obeyed, not wanting to get into another argument for the night.
Comments (1)
See all