Page 4 of Beast and Remedy
Marian steals a piece and chews, her jaw, too, straining. “Nothing but prepping for the party. Oh! I also went out and found another animal to help.”
I arch a brow. “You did?”
She nods and angles her head toward the large storage closet.
I open the door, admiring how the wooden bookshelves were reorganized and shifted higher to accommodate the large metal cage. Inside were woolen blankets, a wide bowl filled with water, and a plate with nothing on it, nestled around a wheezing wolf.
My stomach sinks.
When I inherited this magic, Marian believed there was more to my ability I should explore. She said my gifts and knowledge could work together and thus began an attempt to discover ways to eliminate pain from my shifting.
Yet when we ventured into the woods to store clothing in hidden crevices after my first shift, we found a wounded rabbit, and my heart broke into a million pieces.
I’ll never forget the pull of my magic, desperate to help the poor creature despite being in my human form. And so, in addition to trying out tonics, I started giving injured and sickly animals medical attention.
“How long?” I ask, muscle memory kicking in as I inspect the wolf for injuries, careful not to rouse it.
Marian’s footsteps come up and she squats. “Two days ago. Its leg was caught in a trap and covered in blood. I freed it, but it collapsed as soon as I helped. So, I used my watering can, cleaned it up, and brought it here with Papa preoccupied.”
How to help animals beyond my bear form is a war I fight in my mindconstantly.
The pull of magic summoned me to the woods, keeping me from my own desires to be in my private reading escape.
But protectiveness, something I only considered with my loved ones, overcame me when I saw animals in need. Even when I didn’t want anything more to do with the forest after a shift and needed to focus on how to help my own pain.
“Has it eaten? Had any water?” I ask, running through questions to find symptoms and search for the right treatments to solve the root cause.
I’ve swept through hundreds of books in my lifetime, keeping journals on subjects which always fascinated me. Most were of healers documenting and journaling everything about man and creature.
And to this day, I can’t help the warm feeling I still get, my craving for knowledge aiding me in helping animals as well.
But your knowledge hasn’t aided in helping yourself, Vi. Silly girl. Thinking books will solve all her problems.
Marian’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“Not really. I even snuck some raw meat, and that barely was enough to draw it into consciousness.”She reaches forward and brushes its black-and-white fur. “It was friendlier than I expected it to be.”
A long exhale rises and falls from the wolf’s chest and ice-cold bright blue eyes meet my sister and me.
Marian’s breath catches and she pulls her hand away.
I place mine down on the beast. “It’s alright, we are here to help,” I coo, reaching deep into my chest, seeking out my gifts to nurture and convey tenderness.
The wolf blinks once, and I relax, grateful for my magic’s tether to creatures. It’s not a full way of communication but a way to invoke empathy and understanding.
“That never ceases to amaze me,” Marian confesses.
I point to one of the bookshelves. “Can you get me the empty vial on the far left?”
She moves without complaint. “What are you going to put in it?”
I ease up to my full height and twist to Marian offering me the bottle. “A healing salve. Something standard to help reduce inflammation and prevent infection. But I’ll want to give it a paintonic for the injury later this evening to progress the healing as it rests.”
“Right.”
Turning toward the center of the room, I walk to the stretched-out table.
The afternoon light shines through a window, illuminating each of the small, closed bottles organized in sections of plants, poisons, herbs, blood, spices, tree barks, and liquids varying from water, ale, and wine.
