But the herbs eased, and the pressure that kept her trapped in feverish dreams seemed to release. Her body felt numb. Muscles and bones ached from the stillness she had been coerced into. Beorn groaned, attempting to stretch out her long limbs.
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
No fights in progress
But the herbs eased, and the pressure that kept her trapped in feverish dreams seemed to release. Her body felt numb. Muscles and bones ached from the stillness she had been coerced into. Beorn groaned, attempting to stretch out her long limbs.
Perhaps she was selfish, keeping her asleep. Calypso told herself each day that it was for the best (it was) so that she could heal, but truth be told she could probably have allowed her to wake more fully sooner. Since that fateful day she had lived with anxiety lodged in her chest and throat, smothering her, choking her, and reminding her of what she had done.
All things considered it had been a perfect procedure. The leg had been mangled enough that it had not begun to properly heal, anyway, and the already broken bone had made the limb easy to remove.
What was not easy was the aftermath.
Less herbs meant the hyena would wake, today, and calypso paced anxiously at the mouth of her den in wait. When the groans meant her patient had roused she moved to her side, food and water at the ready, braced for the fallout of the decision she had made.
The nerves coiled in the pit of her stomach, washing over her as she waited for the reaction that…. Didn’t come.
Food. Being hungry was good, probably one of the best things she could have heard honestly. Being hungry meant she was doing better, it meant she was healing, and it meant that she hadn’t made the wrong choice.
Still she takes pause, uncertain of why there is no anger, unaware that she has not yet realized the gravity of the situation. She busies herself, though, and places a meal of soft meats before the hyena. Light meats, mostly fish, with the hope that they would not turn her stomach.
“good,” she added, though cannot shake the sense that something is not quite right.
Beorn rolled her shoulder as the feline moved closer with some food. Already the creature's stomach longed for food, but the scent brought a new stab of hunger to the canine. Beorn pulled herself up, striking out her paw to drag the food closer.
Only... no paw reached out. It was only then that she took a moment to look down. The space where her leg should have been was void of bone, muscle, flesh and fur. A stump, well wrapped in leaves and clearly cared for, connected to her body. "Oh..."
Calypso had known she would feel better when she woke, she had watched the fever leave and the infection fade. The lines of poisoned blood had all but vanished, every promising sign telling her again and again that she had made the right choice.
Still...
Beorn reached for the food and then... then she knew. Calypso tensed, struggling to keep her expression neutral, reminding herself that she had done the right thing. No matter what Beorn thought of the matter, Calypso had not been willing to watch her die.
"I had to." There was certainty to her voice, even though she knew that this was not liable to go well. "Yer feeling bedder because it's gone." Not that that was going to make it any better. Calypso could not imagine losing a leg, and tried her best to empathize with all that the hyena was bound to be feeling, now.
But the numbness was swept away, broken by the tsumani of raging fire that crashed into her. Her face grew dark and stormy. Eyes burned and raged, as if a hurricane were held within her gaze. "What the fuck did you do?" She snarled. Beorn struggled to pull herself up, wobbling and stumbling on her one front leg. "Rher! What the fuck did you do? You've fucking crippled me!" The canine hopped forward, snapping at the air in front of Calypso's face. "O tuuch magaan kaar ghaan draal! You should have let me die!" Beorn snapped at the air again, but her balance and strength faltered.
The creature collapsed upon the ground at the felines feet, and sobs began to heave at her lungs. "Why didn't you just let me die?"
There was shock and then anger, as she had expected. A language she did not know (and she cursed the fact that there were so many of those) and a fury that she did.
Calypso did not move, she did not flinch, and she likely would have accepted whatever retaliation came from the hyena. The teeth that snapped in her face did not strike flesh (had she really meant them to?) and she does not turn away from them.
It is only when Beorn crumbles before her that she softens, a quiet murmur spilling in to the air between them. "It would have been a waste of a life," she answered, relieved to see that the bandages held true despite the flurry of activity. "Ye will live, and ye will live as well wit' t'ree as ye had wit' four." There was certainty in her voice, a calm reassurance that she knew would not likely reach the hyena right now.
"Ye cannot let d'em win." Maybe, though... maybe a little bit of spite might be just what the doctor ordered. "Live because d'ey wanted ye dead." Nevermind just how much the lionness wanted her to -- such a thing would not matter to the hyena just yet. One day, maybe, or at least Calypso hoped.
Already she had disgraced them. She knew they had already casted her out for her sin against them. But now? The form her soul now inhabited would be the greatest sin of all against them. What would her mother think? "You understand nothing, Drer-kec." She growled between sobs.
"No," she agreed, because she was not going to argue that. Calypso knew glaringly little about hyenas and their ways, but she did know healing and sickness. That was what guided her paws, a need to save when the odds were stacked against her. Perhaps it was true that she should stop to ask if she should rather than if she could, but that was simply not in her nature.
Her heart hurt for the canine and she wished she could find the right words to comfort her, but she was clearly out of her element. "I only know ye cen live wit' t'ree legs. Give it a chance, and if ye still wish fer deat' in two mont's d'en I cen help ye wit' d'at, too." It wasn't something she wanted to do, and she hoped the next couple of months would convince the hyena that her life was worth something.