realistically it shouldn't have happened.

while winter didn't hit the desert as hard as the rest of amaryllis the snakes were still lazy, sleepy, and less often seen. alaric knew damn well how to keep himself safe from the cursed creatures, and had tangled with a few in his lifetime to protect his pride. he hadn't expected this one; hell, he had just been taken a bloody nap.

the bite woke him. he must have moved his leg in to the path of the scaled creature, which retaliated with teeth rather than it's preferred protection of spitting venom. alaric was a large lion but he still roared his displeasure before turning and snapping the head off the damned thing before it could escape.

it lay, decapitated, on the rock he had been resting on. alaric had hopped down and nearly fallen, his back legs giving out beneath him. the rear left was already beginning to swell and he knew he was... well, fucked.

struggling to keep a level head he called for help; a medic, a pridemate, anybody who knew how the hell to stop him from dying. this was his new beginning -- he had no intention of dying so soon. As the seconds ticked away he flopped back to his haunches and then lay down, breathing fast, and hoping that help would come soon.

@Hazel_{BG — ART — CODE}

+5 Create a potion with a specific use
+20 Save a character's life through healing
+10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury

The call is full of pain and panic - and Hazel answers without hesitation. She’d been napping in her den, thankfully, and her stores were full and repacked since her encounter with the king. Spotted hide flexes over the top of her hips as she moves, sprinting through the territory to reach the lion. She arrives quickly, placing her bundle of herbs and concoctions down and shifting to look at the fallen lion - his leg being clearly the cause of worry. And not too far from him, a headless snake. A cobra. Hazel stifles a gasp, swallows it down so as not to worry him too much. Panic would not help.

"I’m Hazel," she says softly, turning quickly to her satchel and pulling a long, thick vine from it. "Where were you bitten, exactly? How long ago?" She doesn’t wait for an answer - the venom starts paralysing from the bite area, so it’s his leg. She wraps the vine around the top of his leg, pulling it almost tight enough to cut off circulation, more than willing to pin him down if need be. "Try not to move too much." Hazel returns to her herbs, pulling out a few dried leaves and bright red flowers, mashing them together under her paw.

she arrived and hit him with words and questions and he snarled his displeasure. “my leg you bloody idiot,” he snapped, with a weak gesture to the headless creature that lay on the rock.

she is already moving to the leg, so evidently it had been an unnecessary question. His heart raced and he struggled to catch his breath, finding himself rather unable to move the limb in question. Sight told him that she was wrapping the limb but he felt nothing, and bit out a “sorry” as she worked. Clearly the ordeal was putting him in a more foul mood than usual, and panic raced through his veins along with the venom.

he was panting, now, and did not protest her work. He lay down and closed his eyes, the only sign of consciousness being the “Alaric” he offered next._{BG — ART — CODE}

In any other situation, Alaric’s attitude would not have been taken with a roll of her shoulders. You have to be on your deathbed to be able to speak to Hazel like that - and if he had known her, it might have terrified him to watch her ignore his insult. Thankfully they are strangers, and Hazel is far from tearing him a new asshole while he has poison running through his veins. That can wait till he is healing.

The potion of garden cress and gnetum is mixed, and with gentle - but forceful - paws she holds it to Alaric’s mouth. She’s more than willing to shove it down his throat if need be. "It’s fine." Hazel lies easily, calm despite the way her heart hammers inside her chest. "Eat this."

She’s only ever assisted before with snake bites - poisons and the like. She was a novice when she left her homeland, nowhere near ready to doctor alone. What if she’s misjudged his size? What if it’s too little, or too much? Hazel can’t let doubt get to her now - especially as it seems like no one else heard Alaric’s call.

he was half delirious at that point, but he knew better than to argue with a medic. even if he could smell the nerves on her. every breath he drew was a struggle, but he opened his mouth and accepted the mash of plant without a word.

his head thumped back against the ground -- looking half dead, really -- but his jaws moved slowly and sluggishly to chew and swallow the disgusting clump. a grimace marked his features but he swallowed nonetheless, and could not even muster the energy to say anything about it.

the bite throbbed something fierce and his leg swelled significantly - the puncture wounds oozing blood and some other fluid. he shifted the limb in question and grunted with the pain of it, keeping his eyes closed and half-wishing he could just fall asleep and forget all about this._{BG — ART — CODE}

He does as he is told, which is more than she could say for some of her previous patients. With the herbs ingested, there’s little else she can do until they start to work - but that leg is swelling uncomfortably. "I’ll be right back, stay awake." She orders before scampering away.

A few moments later she returns with a large leaf stacked with ice blocks from the semi-frozen river. It’s placed carefully over the worst of Alaric’s leg, held by a firm paw. "You still with me, Alaric? You’re not allowed to die, it’s rather rude when we’ve just met." Hazel smiles as her gaze drops down to his face, nose wrinkling with the cheek of it. If she acted like @Alaric was fine, then he had to be fine. Those are the rules.

stay awake.

“whaddoyou think I’m trying tdo? okay, still a jerk, check. He at least had the decency to look a little guilty after he slurs the words, his head heavy on the ground. He doesn’t lift it when she leaves or when she returns, slipping in and out of consciousness while she is gone.

The cold of the ice snaps him back to the present, one eye cracking open to the blurry sight of the female hovering over him. Pretty little thing — even in this state he can’t help but notice it.

“still here,” he mumbled, but he can’t be bothered to crack a smile._{BG — ART — CODE}

He’s awake and fairly in character, so that’s a good sign. The crabbiness doesn’t bother the druid - if anything, it makes her smile wider. That he can answer, that he’s still awake, is all she’s asking for. He can swear and curse all he wants as long as he’s awake.

"Good," Hazel says pleasantly, and she takes a seat and sighs quietly, carefully soft. The first sign of strain and stress cracking through her mask. "Now, tell me about yourself." It’s not a request, it’s a direct order and a mild threat - the or else is silent but there in her gaze. She does take a little pity on him, and offers a place for him to start. "How long have you been in the Oasis?"

“are you fucking mad?” he half sits with the frustration, and then slams back to the ground with a growl when his body refuses to cooperate. He feels dizzy and weak and he HATES every second of it. “damn fucking snake,” another mumble beneath his breath, his words slurring together with the quieter tones. He looks at her from where he lay, a frown clear on his face. “I don’ bloodywellknow,” he mumbles, though he makes an honest effort of thinking about it. How long had he been here? “couplea months maybe.” his eyes slid shut again and he winced at an unexpected course of pain up his leg. Had she even put anything on it? He couldn’t remember now…. Maybe he was a doomed man…

image by moogle, code by koi

Hazel watches placidly as Alaric attempts to sit up, but he’s too weak to stay sitting, so she doesn’t have to move to keep him still. "Yeah, I probably am." She answers with a shrug, not commenting on his poor attempt at movement. He’s learned his lesson, surely.

In all honesty, Hazel doesn’t care for his answers, just that he can make them and he’s distracted from the pain for a while. If his anger at her is distracting, good. "That’s not very long." She says, almost distracted while she shifts the leaf to check under it. The ice draws out the heat, but it’s the leaf that will do the rest of the work - the leaf and the herbs she’d shoved down his throat earlier. "I’ve been here… six months, maybe less? Came with my sister, but she’s shacked up in another pride now." Not that he cares, or anything. Not the point.

"Where were you before this?"

Keep talking, buddy.