Trap Ch 2

Ch 2

Werewolf Initiate

“Please!” I cried. It was all I could muster having already been thrust up to my waist into the depths of his mouth. Covered in his saliva and drool I shivered thinking that he'd made up his mind about eating me when he first started shoving, and that I only added to his enjoyment.
He surprised me though; those beastly hands that had shoved and crammed began to work in reverse violently dragging me back. His tongue no longer propelled me but rather snaked about as my bare flesh slid over it. He took me out of that monstrous cavern of death to the amazement of all the other wolves, apparently he alone had heard my plea.

Looking back on that moment, I remember his eyes looking me over in those split seconds of indecision. I remember how truly fowl and disgusting those slimy moments in his mouth were his impossibly large leathery tongue working in rhythm with his beastly hands jamming from behind guiding my upper body forward, pushing me ever closer to that blustery tunnel that would end in hells burning pits of digestion. I remember the stench; oh that putrid smell of the rotting flesh of other poor unfortunate creatures who had had the misadventure to delve into that horrible pit before me. I tell you there’s nothing in the world more haunting than knowing what fate you nearly inherited. In knowing that you were about to follow in the path of countless others who’ve experienced this unimaginable terror of knowing that this is how it’s going to end. You in the gut of this monster. It really puts where you stand on the food chain into perspective.

I shall always remember those split seconds that seemed to last forever in which the gears and lockings of fate snapped into the faint smile that told me his decision had been made.

Hoisting me before him with one hand, he ran his clause "lightly" down my back eliciting a scream from my chapped lips. Leaving scratches that bled instantly; I panted at the gouts, now running the length of my back. I suppose by the werewolf’s standards this was just a prick of the finger, but to me, torture.

His slick leathery tongue slid up my back, repeatedly collecting the spoils of his handy work. It stung and although the licking was soothing to the wounds I couldn’t help but be completely disgusted with where that soothing balm came from and what I‘d just barley escaped. It sure didn't seem like a very good trade off. I escaped digestion for this! Thrashing in his grip I struggled to get away; his hold only tightened painfully squeezing the air from my lungs leaving me gasping, and wheezing for breath.

Finally, after a few self-satisfied licks, the predator wolf turned me to look him in the eyes. Seeing my panicked eyes mirrored in his great yellow orbs, fear lanced through my throbbing heart. Even so, amid all of my terror I felt some how secure. Like something in his eyes promised that I would survive this to be his pet or something.
That didn’t stop me from trying to hit him though, because if this is all I'd have to look forward to then maybe I should just die, that in mind I took my best shot at his big nose...

…Slurp…

Catching my fist in his mouth he slurped inward, pulling my wrist, forearm, elbow, bicep, and shoulder into his mouth. Slurping and slobbering, he took his time sucking on me like a drum stick. All the while I shuddered in disgust and tried in vain for a time, to get my arm back. Strong as the suction in his mouth was I eventually began to pull out, but then I felt his teeth, teasing the skin over my bicep. He increased the pressure and by the look in his eyes I knew that he would bite it off if I didn't give in. Whimpering at the thought of loosing an arm, surrender and compliance became my new mawto’s right on the spot. What else could I do? I never had been strong willed. If I couldn't get away with something with myself intact then it just wasn't worth fighting.

When the werewolf felt satisfied that I'd learned my lesson he released my arm. Grinning at me once more, he licked the side of my face as I looked in stunned horror at my dripping slobber drenched arm.
Later on I’d come to recognize his smile as a thing of fondness, but for now it held only wicked amusement.

Having enjoyed the sport I’d offered he granted me a mercy of sorts. He didn't consume me, or rip me to shreds as I’d feared my fate would eventually have been, but I wasn’t off the menu just yet. No, there were still three more limbs he could enjoy blooding and sucking on, and why hurry? After all he had all night.

I'd grown accustomed to the hot lashing of his tongue by the time he'd finished with my left leg and turned me back to right side up dripping blood mixed with saliva he brought me back up to eye level. "s-so w-wha-t-t-s n-ne-x-t-t" I stuttered shaking weakly as he looked my quivering bloodied form over. licking some of the larger cut's on my torso, he gradually moved his tongue up to my neck and wrapping it around my throat began drawing my head back into his mouth for a second time. He's done tasting me, I thought. Now he's going to end it, finally. A sense of giddiness over took me as his toothy jaws closed around my head. Any second now and it's all over, finally an end. His tongue did a thouraul examination of my face and throat slipping and sliding slowly like this were meant to be a kiss of some kind. The kiss of Death? Shivering and scared silly, I let my head lay in a growing pool of saliva while his tongue caressed my brow. Abruptly the dim light of the ruin flooded into his mouth. Looking around dumbly I saw the old walls and broken furniture of the abandoned house the pack of werewolves looking on still.

What, but I thought he was going to eat me. looking at his face his eyes held mine and that look that said you'll survive to be mine, returned like a kind of told yah so. Holding me by one hand he brought his other up to my face and started scratching my right cheek. after he'd finished he hefted me up and threw me to the nearest werewolf.

This new wolf fell upon me at once tasting my skin and sampling my blood via the "light" scratches over every part of me that would not sustain my crippling. I remember he added some of his own before handing me off to the next of their kind. It is not a thing that I like to recall like most every thing that happened that night. I can still remember what it felt like and it makes me shiver just thinking of it. No one but me can really ever know what exactly it was like, but if you’ve ever been slashed with a knife before repeatedly in a different spot every time then you'll understand what I felt. Just so long as you imagine the instantaneous stinging pain of that single cut about twenty fold, then you know vaguely what I experienced and what it was like not including my renewed thrashing around.

The night dragged on for what seemed an eternity. I, scratched and bruised, was passed about continually. My feet constantly just above the floor, every werewolf in the room got his or her lick of my body tasting my blood. Gleefully passing me about they sampled me as a jug of vintage brandy is passed about at a party among friends; sampled, savored, enjoyed.

I fell unconscious a few times during that ordeal aching and moaning my head fit to burst with the stabbing knife like fire of those licked stinging scratches. I’d found it was much easier to be motion less and take it all rather than try to escape or fight back.

The respites of total oblivious absence from self were of little consolation and to brief to have been more than a blink of an eye. And, always the tickling tongue in the right place, or stinging scratches added as the torture progressed, brought me back to the waking Hell of that place.

When all of the adults had taken their turn with me they lowered me to the floor where the younger wolves could have a taste of me. Puppies to young teens, all crouded around bathing me with their slathering tongues, tickle torturing me all at once. Until I passed out completely.
From then on to the point of dawns braking any thing else that happened that night is a blank.

When conscious found my body again the dawn had at last come, taking with it many a wolf with the longing for his or her own den to sleep off the exhaustion that the revelries of the night had presented. The pack members who’d remained to play with me had long ceased rolling me about. No more new cuts were being added.

The ones that hadn’t already begun to scab over were either in the process of doing so or still at the attentions of the one wolf who hadn’t stopped licking me since the puppies had joined in the revelries.

I stung all over, like a dying ember my wounds were. Every inch of my skin ached, but unlike an ember that dies when the fire goes out I new that I was alive. Licked near insane with laughter and pain from the scratches. I had no will to move from the spot upon which I lay. More than likely, I was too weak to do so even if I wanted to, which I did.
As I lay there, I looked about myself taking in those who’d not yet left. The seven hunters, and the werewolf who’d been going to eat me remained, as did three younger wolves. The one next to me it seemed had personally taken it upon himself to ensure that near every inch of me was well washed in wolf saliva. He was currently one hundred percent wolf smaller than the others more of a natural size for a wolf and licking a scratch on my right bicep, his tail wagging. Whether out of some kind of odd compassion or simply because my blood was just that good tasting I didn’t know. Never the less he hadn’t left when the others had lost interest in me; and unlike the others he hadn't left any new cuts on me as far as I could tell, which I couldn’t. Either way I liked him, he was nice; as nice as a wolf cleaning cuts can be.
I wanted to thank him in some way. I’m not sure why, maybe having something to cling to with fondness appealed to me. I tried lifting a hand to touch his fur, but could barely lift my arm, let alone get it high enough to touch him, my veins throbbed in protest causing the ache in my head to stab mercilessly in retribution. I was weak and the loss of blood had left me sluggish. Bighting was apparently not allowed because there were no teeth marks on me anywhere, just plenty of “light” scratches.

Of the little, I remember of that night I could not place this one this wolf who insisted upon cleaning my wounds. He must not have leapt to taste me immediately or perhaps he’d waited to clean me up afterwards or maybe even been late getting to the ruin that all this had happened in. Whether this was the case or not I would not find out today for now at the command of the predator wolf “who at random guess, I’ve named pack leader” all the wolves left becoming whatever race of man or beast from which they originated grabbing there clothing as they filed out. “Whatever race they’d been before they gave it up to feast on the flesh of there own kind.” All but two had gone; the wolf who’d been licking my wounds and the pack leader himself.

At first I thought he’d come to finish me off at last. But when he changed back to his human form I thought differently about his intentions. He leaned close to the wolf boys ears which were an ashen dark grey like the rest of him and spoke just barely audible

“Go send for uncle, I’ll finish up here.” The youth took one more lick of my blood and then like dust falling away he changed back into his true form he had the looks of a dark elf and was younger than me apparently not on his full growth yet. Putting forth a clawed hand he brushed some sodden locks of hair out of my face, grinned at me and then got up and sprinted for the door hardily bothering to grab his clothes and dress himself before bounding away. The predator wolf who’d dressed in his pants knelt down at my side and began looking me over. Lifting a limb or prodding randomly at a few scabs testing how well they’d closed up. Finally satisfied with his observations he spoke

“my hunters tell me you proved to be an interesting prey to hunt". I just stared wondering what he intended to do with me as he continued.

"Decent speed, good at disappearing quickly, and you proved difficult to maneuver here Ditching the gold I had spelled for tracking and plus, you survived the night. I’m impressed human and that doesn’t happen all too often." He paused for a moment grimacing before adding. "Least of all with one of your kind.”

Personally I didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing. I think deep down I’d known there was something to easy about how I’d come by the gold, but I was hungry. Even if it had been a set up I was alive right? How much longer though? Reflecting on this I stayed silent there was no doubt in my mind that many of my kind had in fact found there way into this man beasts trap and never come out alive.

He continued His monologue to me “so I’ve got a proposition for you if you’re interested.” The werewolf paused a moment prodding a few scabs while his eyes scanned over my injuries.

His eyes came back to mine and he asked “Are you interested?” I gulped and nodded grimly I was very much interested in surviving and besides I couldn’t bare the thought of going through that ordeal in his mouth a second time.

“Good, here’s my offer. If I let you live I can’t just let you go and run off to tell others of my family now can I” I shook my head hopping it was what he wanted to hear.

“naturally not which leaves us a number of options, I could eat you for instance. You’re scrawny I admit but you could probably have me satisfied until the next full moon” he said this grinningly patting his belly. I shuddered in disgust briefly recollecting how close he’d come to satisfying himself with me within the past few hours.

“But I could also make you a member of my pack. You could make a good wolf you know; yeah that might actually not be such a bad idea” he began to reach for my arm the memory of how massive those hands had been not all that long ago terrified me. I tried to pull away, but it was no good. He took my wrist and raised it to his mouth. Although his teeth were human now with a pearly white gleam they still had an unusually sharp look about them particularly the canines. Bringing his mouth to a cut on my wrist he slowly began licking it with his now perfectly human tongue. He grinned and began to muse. “Or, maybe I could have you trained to run a safe house for my kind, we could use one in these parts, hmmm.” He gave my bloody wrist a few more thoughtful licks and then eased it back to the abandoned house’s dirt floor.
Relief flooded through me, for a moment I’d actually thought that he was really going to bite me.

Suddenly he looked up. I heard it too, shortly after he had. The sound of some one crunching through the dry grass. Thinking it was some one come to rescue me from my captor, I almost wished that it wouldn't happen. I wanted to know some kind of belonging and once I got rescued I'd just be on the streets again I wanted to become whatever this wolf was going to make me It would be something more than what I was now. Fumbling with my hand I reached for his. It was next to mine but the effort and pain it cost me made it seem like he were on the other side of the room. Persisting still, I got my finger tips onto the side of it and as if it were my life line my fingers clamped onto his hand with what strength could be gathered to them.

“Pl-e-a-se,” I rasped out as he looked at me rather surprised. Taking my hand with the one that I wasn’t squeezing a funny kind of smirk broke out on his face.

“You really want something from me don’t you,” he said Genuine sincerity in his voice he then asked me, “What is it?”

Squeezing his hand with more intensity I could only whisper out “A fu-fut-ure” I lost control of my fingers then, as well as my hold on his hand, beginning to slip and fall he caught my hand before it could hit the floor.

“Then you will have it.” he said bringing my hand back up to his mouth and licking the back of it, and then pressing it against his lips. The crunch of grass that had caused us both to look up before turned into the sound of foot steps on the path, placing my hand down next to me the predator wolf looked up again, like he were going into a battle.

An old man, thin erect with a pair of eye spectacles and a head full of grey hair that shot off in random directions entered the building a permanently scowling look on his face… Wearing black robes that may have been in style at one time, the man had the appearance of one who squinted very often. Behind the old man came the wolf boy who’d cleaned my wounds with his tongue. He was carrying a large number of bags, which were weighing quite heavily on him. His staggering and heavy panting for instance indicating his exhaustion. Despite this he still looked to have a mischievous look about his features.
Surveying the room the old man spied me and the predator wolf. Picking his way slowly through the wrecked furniture that hadn’t all been pushed to the walls at the beginning of the night he walked up to the predator wolf who still sat next to me. Walking around me like I were just another piece of furniture the old man whacked the predator wolf over the head near causing him to fall on top of me.

“Nephew did not listen to Uncle,” shouted the old man in an irritated tone. “Uncle said he was not to be disturbed for rest of week. Did uncle not say not to be disturbed for rest of week!?!”

The wolf hung his head and replied dejectedly “Yes Uncle.” The old man bristled and whacked the werewolf again.

“Then why is Nephew sending little Nephew to disturb Uncle!?! Little Nephew set off trap meant for older Nephew if he came to disturb Uncle!!!” Shouted Uncle.

Little Nephew as the wolf boy had been referred to was staggering back and forth behind Uncle, practically as unnoticed as me and the rest of the furniture, with the weight of the bags pulling him off balance repeatedly more frequently until he finally toppled over with a very loud crash.

“Uncle will deal with disobedient Nephew later.” Said the old man walking over to Little Nephew he picked up the bags himself seemingly not feeling there weight. As he pointed at the old splintered table that had been thrown to the side the night before it immediately righted itself floating directly in front of Uncle and then setting down.

Even if I’d not been low on blood I would have had to do a double take for a second I thought I was hallucinating but just like that, there the table was. Uncle set the bags on top of it and Little Nephew went about unpacking. Turning to survey the wreckage further Uncle pointed at a somewhat intact chair, which came to him immediately. Sitting down with a heavy sigh the old man gestured at a large iron teapot, which had been unpacked on the table.

“Nephew go get some water for the tea,” the predator wolf stepped up to the table, and took the tea kettle, and said again in a tone just as deflated as before “yes Uncle” and went out the door.
Little Nephew had unpacked a number of items apparently familiar with this routine. Going about the room, he gathered up a number of splintered bits of broken furniture and started a fire in the chimney

“Uncle," inquired the boy after the fire was blazing good and strong. "Are you going to help him?” Uncle looked up and squinted about him. “Whose needing Uncle’s help?” The wolf boy came over to me and eased me to a sitting position, even that hurt. I had to bite back a sudden yelp at the pain.

“A friend of Little Nephew‘s?” inquired the man squinting in my direction.

“No," Came the predator wolf’s voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to look his way including Uncle; "Not yet, but he will be and much more if you don’t mind an apprentice Uncle.” Walking in seeming in a better sense of confidence than he’d been when he left.

“Don’t go playing jokes, Uncle is old enough as it is” said Uncle half rising from his chair. The predator wolf paid him no mind and proceeded to the fire to arrange the kettle on the rusted hooks. I didn’t know what was going on but I had no doubt that it now involved me on more than a few levels. Turning from the fire and taking up a chair that creaked ominously as the wolf seated himself he Faced Uncle

“No joke Uncle, this is one of the petty crooks and thieves that your brother wanted off the streets.” Uncle blinked his face blank expressionless. He’s not near as incapable as the last four, you remember me telling you about them, don’t you? Not even smart enough to disappear and wait for a chance to run.” Prompted the predator wolf called Nephew as though unsure if Uncle really did remember.

"Seven of them were there Nephew; two dark elf pickpockets, an orc Rapist, a balding Breton dealing fake valuables, a Nordic pare middle-aged yellow hair robbing travelers, and a local turned thief, which of these have you brought Uncle?" Inquired Uncle jabbing, a long bony finger in my direction. I of course knew all to well which one I was. The local who’d gone and become a thief in order to survive. And all because his parents had been murdered when he was four. That was me, and Nephew didn’t hesitate in saying so to Uncle.

Silent and thoughtful the old man gestured to a teapot on the table with a tea strainer in it then to the fire. The kettle had all ready boiled and was shrieking up a billow of steam. Cut off mid hoot the steaming kettle soared from the fire pouring the tea water upon reaching the table as if it were what it did every day and as far as I could tell it probably did just that.

“Hmmm, apprentice you say, hmmm; Uncle will see what can be done.” Standing the old man made for me looking my ripped body up and down repeatedly stroking his beardless chin. “Nephew could at least have left boy in better condition. You know how Uncle disapproves of Nephews crude methods.”

The wolf called Nephew nodded “And you know how I disapprove of your tedious methods Uncle,” Retorted Nephew.

The old man Bristled fit to whack the wolf over the head again. “Uncles methods are not tedious!!!” shouted the old man. “What’s tedious is time Uncle must waste undoing Nephews damage to new apprentice!”

“You’ll teach him then,” asked the younger wolf piping up from my side.

“Of course Uncle will teach, Uncles not going to live forever.” Said Uncle as if this should be obvious.

“You’re not getting to old for this are you uncle?” sneered the predator wolf “You sit around all day drinking your silly tea, while my pack keeps your word to the Count, why should I not just make another wolf for my pack.”

The room grew rapidly chilly. “Never mock the tea.” said uncle in a deadly silent tone. Sending up a steamy battle cry the teakettle soared off the table and flew at the predator wolf’s head barely missing as he quickly ducked, lodging in the brick wall behind him instead.

“Uncle’s not getting to old for this!” yelled the old man. “Uncle’s already too old for this! Now get out before Uncle throws something else!” The teapot and cups rattled ominously on the table, but the pack leader bowed out before any more dishes could take flight. Privately I wondered how many of the dents in the old kettle came from similar stunts it had survived. I also wondered how many tea sets had not survived.

Sighing Uncle returned to the chair and sat down. Little Nephew had eased me back down and taken cover behind an up turned dresser while the china had been on the verge of aerial maneuvers. Sensing that it was safe to emerge again, he quickly went to work unpacking the rest of the stuff that had been brought. An iron cauldron, cutting boards knives a jar of honey and what I would guess was crushed dried mint leaves. Also, a number of old tomes, jars, and flails containing strange colored liquids were set out the bags seemed almost bottomless but finally they were empty.

Uncle seemed to have dozed off while waiting; so Little Nephew quickly went to the old mans side and shook him awake carefully. Coming to as if nothing had happened the man looked up at the wolf boy “Thank you Little Nephew” Little Nephew was far from little but he didn’t seem to mind the incentive so much. Looking around uncle spied the kettle still lodged in the wall

“Damn kettle Uncle can’t take eyes off Kettle two minutes with out finding Kettle some where else" Said Uncle scowling daggers at the rambunctious kettle.." Little Nephew would you get kettle out of wall please?

The boy gave me a slight grin and then winked “Sure Uncle whatever you say,” Bounding over to the wall the wolf boy jumped up to grab a hold of the handle and start pulling. I could not help but laugh..
A lance of pain shot through my chest then my lungs feeling like they’d been filled with molten lead. It left me gasping for air. Looking down at me as if he’d not even realized I was there till now the old man looked to the younger wolf.

“When did this one get here Nephew, Uncle thought brother wanted him off of streets.” The kettle finally gave up its purchase in the wall as the wolf boy gave a great heave pulling the kettle, himself, and a number of bricks onto the floor with a few thuds.

“Uh, um, Uncle.” Groaned the wolf boy as he picked himself up and deposited the kettle on the table as he came over. “Maric just gave him to you as a new apprentice, don’t you remember?” Maric, might that be the name of the pack leader who’d been referred to as Nephew, I thought wondering how much weirder this day was going to get.

The man looked from Little Nephew, to me, to the door, and then to the kettle shaped dent in the wall. “Ayah!!!” Shouted the old man standing up and then immediately sitting back down wide eyed. “Uncles getting to old for this.” Reaching for a cup of tea and the finding the still hot kettle sitting next to him instead, the old man jumped back three feet knocking his chair down in the process. “Why can’t kettle stay where Uncle left it last!!!”

Little Nephew barely held back the torrent of laughter that had me gaping and wheezing for breath on the floor. “I really don’t know Uncle, will wonders never cease,” the boy righted the mans chair and then got Uncle's attention back on me. “Can you help him Uncle he needs a bit of patching up after last night”

Uncle stood up lithe as youth, coming over to me and squatting down he began to examine me on a closer level. “Hmmm.” Said uncle prodding my scabs still very raw from their recent creation. “Hmmm” the foggy squint of the mans gaze sharpened suddenly and then he started his work. “ Blood loss” Instantly one of the musty tomes flew open. “Cuts major and minor, bruises chance of infection possible cracked ribs werewolf inflicted.” The other three tomes flew open and joined the first waiting to be read. Standing up from me the old man went to the table and began to read the pages muttering to himself.

I did not catch much but it sounded something like "Crude methods," and "tedious waste of time." Maybe it was just my loss of blood.
Little Nephew came over and carefully scooped me up in his arms. I groaned.

“Sorry” He apologized as he carried me over to another table near the fire setting me down on top of its worn surface the mischievous smile that seemed to be automatic with him split his face

“So I guess your part of the pack now,” He said. I opened my mouth to try and respond to him, after all I did kind of like this kid. He placed a hand over my mouth and then closed it, “It‘s all right you don‘t have to respond just take it easy ok.” I nodded and didn’t try to talk after that, his smile deepened if that was even possible, “Good boy.” He said patting my cheek roughly, “My names Heron, and since I‘m the one who‘ll be looking after you until you can walk on your own I guess that makes us roommates or something.”

“Ok,” I rasped, this amused the wolf boy Heron, who waggled a finger at me in a mock kind of scolding.

“Hey now what did I just get done saying?” he said running his right hand through my hair, “Don‘t make me have to discipline you now,” He chuckled a bit and I smile back, even smiling hurt.

Turning away from me with another mock scolding of “Now you behave yourself” the wolf boy Heron turn his attention to stocking the fire before going to affix the cauldron amid the flames. Uncle was still muttering things to himself about, "Nefariously over active tea kettles," and "particular traps to set for a certain Nephew."

While Uncle read absentmindedly he gestured toward the tea.
Honey and mint instantly flew into motion adding themselves to the tea in predetermined amounts.
A cup flew to hover at Uncles side, which he sipped occasionally as he read. Heron poured the kettle water into the caldron to get it going again. Taking up a mortar and pestle he then started crushing certain herbs, and dried plants together into powder. Turning to a cutting board he sliced a number of roots up as well, and after that was done he started uncorking the bottles of bright colored liquids.

When all was seemingly underway, Uncle looked up and began gesturing with both hands at the contents of the table chanting something in a different language. Heron stepped back pulling a chair up next to the table I was on to sit and watch from a safe distance.

Things instantly went to work the cutting boards and knives rose into the air and began slicing up the rest of the roots while pestles and mortars busily ground plant bits into powder. Many of these animated parts flew over me to the caldron where they emptied their contents before flying back. Others staid at the table mixing in empty flails while some of the strange liquids mixed with them. The smells and reactions of the mixtures where to many to observe all at once and a particularly loud bang from the fire caused me to jolt.

Heron stood up from his chair, removed the caldron from the fire, and began stirring the contents while Uncle came over then, a procession of beakers and mixtures following in his wake. Heron grabbed an empty floating bowl, which he filled with warm water from the kettle. Grabbing a towel and a beaker of pail yellow he emptied it in the bowl. Coming over to me he gave a grimace of apology and then took my hand and dipped it in the bowls warm contents. I hissed at the heat, but other wise I held my pain in check as the dried blood on my hand turned the mixture a foggy crimson that settled into a bright red. Returning my hand to the table, finally, Heron spit in the liquid and mixed it sloshing the liquids about in the basin.

I must have been looking at him funny. “Wolf spit” he explained, “acts as a cleaning agent” I must have been tensed because I felt myself relax a bit but not for long. Dipping the towel in the bowl until it was thoroughly saturated in the hot liquid Heron turned his sorry eyes on me again. “This might sting a bit.” Reaching down he began bathing me for the second time that day. It had been no exaggeration when he’d said it would sting.
It burned; my already aching wounds screamed in protest as he wiped them down. The flames of the wolves claws all over again; It left me panting. Soon though the burning was replaced by a cool soothing ice that warmed into a wonderful numbness.

At last, I was able to really relax. Uncle followed over the numbing wash with a salve that he spread over my raw wounds.



…To be continued…