She had taken the boy to the hot springs and waited until the chill had receded from his body. Even so, that alone would not be able to help him regain consciousness. Ulla suspected that the combination of hyperthermia, tiredness and lack of nutrition was what made the cub so much weaker than kids his age. There had been rogue cubs who were still able to walk on their own, but not when every infection wrecked their body at the same time. Her den was closest to the entrance and also where the sun's ray penetrated through. She set the boy down on a pile of fur and got to work helping him keep his heat. Ulla knew little of proper care for anyone as she was never trained in the arts. So after a little while, she exited her den and called for someone - anyone in the hollows - for help.

image © argent 2021

faevyre.+10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury [1/2]

A call rings out while Faevyre is settling down for a quick nap. Eyes open, ears flick as they draw in the sound, its tones tinged with urgency, perhaps a bit of desperation -- and then she's on the move, grabbing one of the leaf-wrapped packets she's prepared for emergencies and trotting toward the call. She lets out an echoing chuff, sending the sound reverberating back down the halls of the Hollows to let whoever it is know she's coming.

She follows the most recent scent -- Úlla, which seems to match what she could identify of the call -- and follows it into the forward den of the Sovereign. Light cascades down in a spire through the ceiling and onto a tiny black form curled onto a pile of furs. A cub, still as death, in a way she'd seen a million times before growing up in lands caked in permafrost.

Faevyre's ears flatten back, mind racing, and she rushes forward in a frantic trot, setting down the herbs beside the furs. "Whoa, whoa," she breathes. Her nose drifts forward, seeking to brush the cub's fur -- damp, and cold, even if warming. The little one is so thin. Too thin. "What happened?" Faevyre asks urgently, glancing over to Úlla. Knowing will help her treat, but for now, she gives instructions. "Put them against your belly. Lick their head and their chest."

Faevyre crouches, seeks to begin doing the same for the other side of the cub's body. Similar to the way that you'd coax a newborn's muscles, they had to see if they could stimulate warmth and life back into this tiny form. The poor thing is probably exhausted, but they just need to get them awake once -- just once, to know they won't die on them -- and then they can sleep.

[OOC: Still primarily out of it - but posting so you can continue :)]

The youth hadn't noticed his removal from the cold, or subsequent submersion in a hotspring. He barely noticed the change in venue, truthfully. Hunger pinched his gut, but he was so used to that it barely registered. What did register was the constant touch of a tongue crossing his hide. Rubbing the fur the wrong way. A tiny squeak of protest exited a toothless maw, eyes still remaining firmly closed - crusted by the usual eye gunk of a young child.

He wanted to go back to the rocking - the swaying motion that had become so constant with his father. Zayn may not understand what a 'father' was, but he understood that the older lion that had been with him had been safe, there since the beginning. His favored place to sleep had been tangled up in the rough strands of red mane. It was this comfort that he sought now, limbs flailing in his half conscious state - dagger like claws flexing, searching blindly for the familiar touch of wiry fur.

@Úlla @Faevyre

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Integer lobortis purus faucibus nisi iaculis fermentum. Integer sodales sodales gravida. Mauris ut nunc ac dolor sollicitudin ultricies. Vestibulum nibh libero, imperdiet quis orci ac, porttitor volutpat lectus. Proin varius aliquam convallis. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Integer blandit malesuada purus sed sagittis. Proin nulla sapien, venenatis vitae lacinia sed, porta nec erat.

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Ulla's sound was met by the response of @Faevyre, who came with a medical packet in her jaws. The woman watches as the maned lioness came and began to brush her nose against the cub's side. I found him in the Freeze Ulla said. The rest she guessed the other lioness could infer. Ulla was also quick to lay in her den and curl her body around the black-pelted cub. Truth be told, she was skeptical just doing this will save the boy. Her own reliance on herbs made her obsessed with the idea that just a little taste will help cure the boy. Soon, the boy began to move, reaching for something as his tiny claws scratched at the air. Ulla attempted to curl further in so that the heat of her body could be soaked into the boy. Meanwhile, her tongue began to lave at the boy's head, hoping to wake him from his unconsciousness. She then turned to Faevyre for a moment and asked Do you have herbs that can help?

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faevyre.+10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury [2/2]

The Freeze. Yeah, that'll do it. It makes sense -- it's probably one of the only places Faevyre can think of that could drop a temperature that low.

The warmth and stimulating pressure seems to help, coaxing him to consciousness enough to flex his tiny claws. Faevyre pauses in her ministrations to watch his paws carefully. "Still able to flex his toes and claws, that's good..." she murmurs to herself, thinking. She delivers another firm swipe of her tongue to his fur, and nods approvingly as Úlla wraps around them. She doesn't know about the hot springs, but any sort of heavy soak like that could have furthered the onset of the hypothermia on the way back. They'll just have to hope it didn't hurt more than it helped.

Úlla asks about herbs. She shakes her head. "Herbs can help the more minor symptoms, but not the source of the problem," she says as she looks down at him. "He might get nauseous -- I can give him something to help with that." Lips purse. Sune, he's so small. He can't be more than a month or so old, maybe even younger -- he's just so thin she can't even tell.

"What he really needs is milk. He needs to nurse -- it's the best way to get his strength back to him." Her lips purse, mind racing. She thinks, going over the list in her mind. She's noticed Nadia and Desdemona showing, but they're not nearly close enough -- they wouldn't start producing until a few days out from birth. "The lionesses we have here are too early or too late to be producing. I only know of one mother right now that's nursing. An ally -- Talisa, heiress of the Brook."

Her heart jumps at the thought of returning there, borne of her own anxieties and remembering her leaving the birth there so soon. But that feeling is minor, nothing compared to the thought of what this cub needs to not die. "If the lingering effects of the cold don't take him first, the starvation will. We should take him soon."

[OOC: Feel free to move him as needed/progress the thread. Hims kay oh'd again.]

Kneading fruitlessly, Zayn frowned when he found not wiry red fur, but softer shorter strands. A grunt of displeasure squeaked from the tiny form before he shuffled, leaning into the heat and warmth. With the malnutrition from his first few weeks of life, he had also developed a little bit of a snotty nose.. leaving him bleary eyed, and noseblind for the time being.

He sighed, the pleasant fog of unconsciousness drifting up on him. Still chilled, and more than a little hungry, he succumbed to the familiar feeling. It wasn't heralded by the gentle rocking and swaying that came with being carried by his father, but it would do for now and he certainly wasn't going to refuse when being in the happy place of dark and silence made sure his tummy wasn't pinched painfully in hunger.

//annndd blehp//

@Úlla @Faevyre

proin varius aliquam convallis

Integer lobortis purus faucibus nisi iaculis fermentum. Integer sodales sodales gravida. Mauris ut nunc ac dolor sollicitudin ultricies. Vestibulum nibh libero, imperdiet quis orci ac, porttitor volutpat lectus. Proin varius aliquam convallis. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Integer blandit malesuada purus sed sagittis. Proin nulla sapien, venenatis vitae lacinia sed, porta nec erat.

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Things were looking up, but not quite where Ulla needed it to be. The little boy was now in need of milk to nurse and no one here was ready, as @Faevyre pointed out. If Ulla had the ability to, she would've given the boy her own to nurse on. Yet, she was neither pregnant nor did she have the herbs that some say may produce milk in non-pregnant lionesses. That was also a myth, she thought, and it would be better if she and Faevyre took the boy to the brooks. And when he was better, he could come back to the hollows - as one of Ulla's. Her greed for children had not gone for too long before she had to mentally reign herself in. Perhaps, soon, Ulla could have her own, growing in her belly. Though her look at the boy was that of longing, the sovereign nodded. I can take him to the brook. It would also be a good way to figure out if the brooks will remain allies or not. Get something for his nausea and whatever else you think he will need. Then meet me by the tunnel entrance and we will go to the brook. But what if the brook wouldn't take him even if they were once allies? The boy wasn't any of theirs, he was only found by a stroke of luck. No. This was not the time to cast doubts about a group of faceless lions. @Zayn

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faevyre. +10 Heal a character’s sickness or injury [2/2]
+5 Gather herbs for nursing or birthing [1/2]
+5 Collect herbs [1/2]

The dark child goes in and out of consciousness. It's good that he can somewhat wake, but it's not good enough. She watches the Sovereign give the cub a look of longing, and she feels a pang of empathy in her chest. She feels it, too -- the yearning to bring life of her own, to care for little ones. In time.

Fortunately, the woman doesn't let that yearning get in the way of reason, and shows compassion for the tiny babe at her chest in letting him go, even if for a little while. For a brief moment, Faevyre wonders if she'll be allowed to come with -- until the I shifts to a we. Good. The ordering of such rankles a part of her conscience, but she fights that part of her back down easily when she looks upon the babe.

"If you have furs, grab them to keep him warm on the way. I'll be back," she says, turning away and taking up a hurried trot through the caverns. Out of concern for the cub, Faevyre finds herself more easily frustrated, the stress of a mere babe dying in their care rubbing her psyche a bit raw. She should have just taken him to the nearest pride, the nearest ally, the lioness thinks. Faevyre doesn't know that relations may have shifted with the change in leadership, just assumes they wouldn't. The Brooks were close to the Freeze. They could have gotten him help sooner -- hell, hours ago. What if the time it took to get him from the Freeze to here and then nearly back out to it is what kills him?

These thoughts occupy her mind as she trots out of the entrance of the Hollows, going straight to the garden where she knows they have more fresh stock. She's visible there, so if Úlla arrives to meet as they'd agree, she'll see the medic easily. "Focus, Faevyre," she murmurs softly to herself, trying to find her center, and not let it get to her. Úlla was just doing what she thought would help, she reasons, moving on to start making a list in her mind of what she needs, and gathering it. Something for the runny nose she'd noticed; a post-birth aid, to hopefully help with Talisa's milk production should she accept nursing the child, not wanting to endanger the woman's own litter with a low supply; something for nausea...

The urgent sound had echoed deep through the chasm and down into many tunnels, where it had found Hiccup practicing his pouncing. He’d cornered a lizard and trapped it under his paw, and had just picked it up by the tail when he’d heard the call. It had made him pause and turn around with his ears cupped, the lizard dangling helplessly from his teeth while he’d listened. A chuff had chased the echoing voice — Faevyre! He’d been curious before — now he really wanted to know what was going on.

He moved then, shuffling through one tunnel and down another in search of the hoopla. Eventually, he found it — specifically, he found Úlla and what looked like an upchucked hairball. No Faevyre though. Hiccup hesitated at the mouth of her den (still clasping his lizard by its tail), wondering what the fuss was about. It took him a second to identify the child tucked against her body, and as the realization hit him, he gasped and dropped his catch. Not even batting an eye over the lizard as it scrambled into a crack in the rock wall, the boy quickly came into Úlla’s den and approached with a look of concern on his wide eyes.

Head lowered, his nose wiggled as he sniffed at the hairball. “Is he okay?” he hiccuped in his concern.

code / chibi

[OOC: Feel free to move him as needed/progress the thread. Hims kay oh'd again.]

Unaware of the goings on around him, Zayn fell deeper into the inky black slumber that was less a true sleep and more of a failure of his brain to communicate with the rest of his body. The dark pelted boy went limp as his chin hit the earth, and all tension drained from his form.

Perhaps it was a good thing as he had never seen another lion beyond his father, let alone another little lion that constituted as other young cubs. Such a discovery might have sent the boy reeling as the small bubble he knew as his world was cracking open.

//exit via unconsciousness//

@Úlla @Faevyre @Hiccup

proin varius aliquam convallis

Integer lobortis purus faucibus nisi iaculis fermentum. Integer sodales sodales gravida. Mauris ut nunc ac dolor sollicitudin ultricies. Vestibulum nibh libero, imperdiet quis orci ac, porttitor volutpat lectus. Proin varius aliquam convallis. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Integer blandit malesuada purus sed sagittis. Proin nulla sapien, venenatis vitae lacinia sed, porta nec erat.

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