I'm Feeling Like An Outlaw

*eyes at Circle of the Moon* @Dairinn

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The Disciple had no intention of leaving her home in Sanatorium. Not with Exalted hostage under a damned bear, not with everything so dire... 
But she wasn't given a choice. 

The night she chose to hunt for something to feed to the rest of the pack, she ran into a feralized, ragtag band of loners intent on bloodshed. The fight was not one she could win, and so she tried to run, wounded, bleeding. 
She ran far, fast, eventually falling from somewhere on high and hitting her head, hard. 
Everything then, was gone. No faces, no names, other than her own...
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She woke the next sunset with a splitting headache, sore and burning all over. She knew nothing, nobody. Not anymore. And not by her own choice. 

​​​The behemoth groaned, dull and loud, in agony. 

"Fuck, my head..." She grumbled, placing a large paw over her muzzle. 
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 Dairinn sat plucking through herbs outside of the makeshift cover she had created. Mumbling various things under her breath, mostly in an effort to keep track and remember what she was doing. Oh my she did feel quite foolish. The night before had been a clumsy one, and bargaining with badgers was not in her best interest. She will be paying them back in fermented berry wine for months, for nothing else would get them to leave their burrows to assist her.
 No, for she was far too small and skinny limbed on her own to drag the white mass of fur deeper into the Lapis Nestle. A season of motherhood did prepare her to dig a fairly sized hole in the ground, however, though it was only a foot or so deep. She used twigs, tree branches and foliage to make up for the difference. The enormous wolf was just that, a gargantuan thing. Much larger than any wolf she could ever recall encountering.
 The coverage was absolutely necessary regardless, as today had been quite damp and a soft misty rain sprinkled the earth. Still now it did, though it had let up just a tad. It gave the sky a nice rainbow finish as sunset drew nearer.

 A rustling and a voice stopped her in the tracks of her thinking, to which her ears perked and her head snap turned to look at the white wolf. She rushed over, dropping her herbs and her counting.
 "Don't move too much, my dear! You might undo your bandaging." She put a paw out, though not touching the other. While it certainly was a nice gesture to take her in, treat her wounds, and bargain with badgers nonetheless, the vixen had no idea how the wolf might react and thus remained cautious.
 "You must forgive my rustiness, I have not done bandages like these since my son tried to fight a mink." A soft and gentle motherly giggle left her maw as she tried to make light conversation, remembering fond but, familiar memories.
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Nyra jolted upward with startlement and knee-jerk fight or flight reaction as the voice of another drew so close. 
She was ready to fight and tear and--
Never mind. 
The upward jolt immediately gave way to a brand-spanking-new level of pain, and she sank back to the ground with a series of hurt whines and whimpers. She was really fighting the urge to burst into tears, though she knew not the reason why she did so. 

​​​​​The bandaging may or may not have started undoing at her sudden movement, but regardless of that, she offered an apologetic and confused gaze to the motherly fox. Apologies, in referring to the efforts of patching her up, confusion, in referring everything else. 

​​​​​"Where...?" She murmured softly, pinching her eyes closed and opening them again a few times to try and keep her vision clear. 

​​Nyra would indulge conversation the best she could, and a bit too late, awkwardly so, she hesitantly offered words to the mink story. 
"He sounds like a courageous kid..." 
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 She observed as the other whined, her ears pinning back for just a moment as they did. Immediately a look of concern coated her delicate features. Knowing they were in far too much pain to be any sort of a threat; she approached and adjusted the wolf's bandages of goatweed and sphagnum moss. They had only slipped a little, and the few drops of salmon berry poultice under them helped a bit in keeping their place.
 Dairinn was lucky to find such herbs and to have a stockpile of sphagnum moss in her den, she wasn't expecting to put her slight medical knowledge to the test in this way. She could barely remember if goatweed was meant for treating open wounds or for indigestion, though she prayed she was right in guessing it was the former.
 "You are in the Lapis Nestle, lamb." She said to the white one, answering her vague and confused question. Taking a seat just beyond the small makeshift shelter.
 "My Leannan always has been." The vixen responded, appreciative that the other would conversate with her, even in such pain. Staring for a moment, lost a bit in the warm memories of her pups. She was beginning to dearly miss them, though she knew they were making wonderful lives for themselves on their own. Dairinn sprung to life after a few moments.
 "I'm sorry I don't have anything to help with the pain, I didn't want to leave you to go find anything until you were more awake." Dairinn reasoned, feeling quite sympathetic for the wolf, she couldn't imagine what pain and confusion they must be in.
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The gentle-voiced woman gave her a location name. By the face she made, it may have been obvious she didn't know where exactly that sat in this vast world. 

Not that she remembered seeing any of it before now. 

"He sounds like an exciting fellow." Nyra smiled softly, though it was a tense action given her current state. 
"I can understand wanting to keep an eye on me, given...everything hurts. Trying to remember anything somehow hurts worse though..." She admitted, some sense of fear and uncertainty glossing her intense gaze as it really set in to reality for her. 

She didn't remember anything. 

​​​​Tears threatened to come forward then. From the fear and confusion and the overwhelmingness of it all.
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 She giggled a hearty and motherly giggle at the thought of her Leannan. The rowdiest pup of the bunch when he was younger. Her eyes seemed to drift, pondering what he was getting up to these days. It felt like just yesterday she was birthing them in her den, Cian tending to her needs, a friend or so delivering her herbs every now and again to help Dairinn along. Those certainly are fond memories.
 The vixen alerted back into place, ears still open enough and her head close enough to the ground to hear the white wolf's words. Her expression shifted again, one with a bit of astonishment.
 "You can't... remember anything?" She questioned, watching as the wolf's expression did change as well. Her heart ached as the slight hints of fear grew upon them, and her motherly instincts clicked in as she stood and moved forward. She took a paw and gently rested it on the other's side, a look of hope in her eyes.
 "Don't worry, dear. I'm sure it will come to you, you had a rough night." Dairinn stated, memories of the rain and the mud haunting her.
 "I did find you in such a sorry state. You nearly cracked your skull open falling from somewhere high on." The dark colored vulpine stopped to reminisce and get her mind straight, assuring that her re-telling would be as accurate as possible.
 "You are very lucky I was out that far, looking for herbs, I rarely ever go so far from these trees." She stopped, that motherly look in her eyes staring at the wolf. Those eyes that questioned one's purpose and sometimes made someone feel silly. The look that most often said a thousand words, a look so common used of mothers, both present and former.
 "It was raining rather hard as well, I couldn't leave you out there to grow cold and die. I just didn't have it in me. You were barely alive and suffering." That look of concern did rise about her face and expression once more, one might even think she would shed a tear. Dairinn just might, as the memories of the night previous were harsh ones. Her fur whipped by the wind, struggling along with the badgers to pull the white wolf into the safety of a makeshift den. The occasional outcries from the wolf as she tried her best to tenderly patch bleeding and bruised wounds.
 While she had made comparisons to that silly summer day where her merely small at the time son had angered a mink, she knew in her heart that this was far worse. The white wolf was badly injured and Dairinn even questioned a few times if she was ever going to wake up. She was glad that her efforts weren't in vain.
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Nyra watched the concern on the vixen's face at the mention of not remembering anything. 

A look of concentration came to the stressed she-wolf's face as she tried again to remember any of her past in these lands. 

Nothing, complete with a searing flash of pain with the effort, to which she winced. 
"I know my name, nothing else..." Her voice cracked as tears started dripping down her face. 
"My name is Nyra..." she offered through the hitches in her breath from crying and the fear starting to overtake her. 
Though she wouldn't recall ever being vulnerable before, some deep part of her felt this was the first time she truly felt as vulnerable as a newborn child.

The paladin's sides shook as she wept.
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 It was as if the motherly instincts within her swelled until they splashed over, and watching the other weep pulled at her heartstrings in such a way.  She knelt up, nearly on her back legs, to reach the beast's head where on it's peak she gave loving and caring licks. As if she were a pup, crying and confused and alone.
 "Don't cry my love, I will ask around for something that might help with your memory and pain. I'm sure it will all come to you in time." The vixen spoke, pressing her forehead against the other's like she would do with her own children.
 She waited for a while, giving licks and head pats and other sorts of loving things before she spoke up again.
 "Nyra is a lovely name." A smile appearing across her face, though it was briskly tinted with the same look of concern and worry. The vulpine deeply wondered who would bring injury to such a sweet thing, no matter her size. She recalled the injuries she had bandaged last night and recalled not just scrapes and bumps from a fall but, scratches and bite marks inflicted by another.
 She never understood others who were aggressive for no reason, even to the point of harming another. Dairinn hoped karma would make swift work of them, to teach them a lesson for harming the white wolf. She may be large, enormous, even, but that didn't mean one had to prove their strength against her.
 Dairinn stood, taking her tail and rubbing it along the side of the wolf, hoping to console her as she turned.
 "Are you okay for me to leave you for a while? I'd like to go find something to help you with your pain." The fox asked, a slight turn to head.
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Nyra wept for a few long minutes as the motherly fox gave comfort via caring tongue laps and other wholesome notions such as stroking her head with a paw. 
It was the continuous comfort from Dairinn that eventually calmed the she-beast down, fading from fitful crying into hics and shaky breaths, and from shaking breaths into less shaky breathing with the stroking of the Mother Fox's tail along her side. 

​​​​​​The press of forehead to forehead awoke a strong feeling of love and kinship that swirled up in her chest; platonic and yet iron strong. 

​​​​​​​​​​​Nyra is a lovely name 
The white wolf smiled softly through the last tears to she'd upon her face, and as her caretaker turned slightly away with an inquiry upon her lips, Nyra nodded in response with a verbal confirmation to follow. 
"I should be okay until you return, miss...?" 

Gratitude was the first of emotions to come to life in her fiery eyes as she gazed upon Dairinn.
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 The vixen was glad to see the other relaxing a bit, and her worry faded only slightly. It occurred in the wolf's statement that the fox had not yet told Nyra her name so gave a slight chuckle in apology before indulging her.
 "Dairinn, love. You may call me Dairinn." Her little giggles in between, breaking up her words a bit. In all her shuffling, caring, and mothering she forgot to give the white wolf her name. Despite not resembling anything of her pups, barely even in the soft familiar memories she brought up, the fox felt so loving towards the wolf. Her white visage reminding Dairinn of the pale gaze of the moon, in a way. Their yellow eyes even more so.
 As if the goddess herself had led her into Dairinn's path, in times of great need. The coven reforming, the wolf packs to the east and west, like the goddess had delivered a gift to the forest for Dairinn to recieve. At least, if anything, it was no coincidence that such a large pale wolf would show up at such strange time. And the likely hood that Dairinn even found her, out past the Lapis where she rarely went.
 There were no such things are coincidences to Dairinn and while she kept the thoughts to herself and from the already overwhelmed wolf, her mind went on about such things. About the moon goddess, and the meaning this wolf's arrival must have.
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