Well, That Was Stupid

Ooop, bad. Bad. Fomoir had his head low, and his shoulders low, and his tail was drooping even lower. Ow. Ugh. Right on the… ow! 
The wolf was walking quickly, with a distressed urgency, and a small hint of shame. Fomoir had attempted to eat a snake… He had figured he could handle the thing, because he made a plan, which was unusual for him. He’d bait the scaled creature into a strike, dodge to the side, and then bite it behind the head! I mean, how good could a snake’s aim be? It’s not like their entire bodies could pivot and twist and respond to quickly-moving targets… right?
 
Right?
 
Not quite. Fomoir had indeed dodged to the side as the snake struck, and he was pleased with his own tactic… But as he turned to try to bite the snake, it was the snake that bit first. It was a quick ‘Get the heck away from me’ bite, on the snake’s part, but it was enough to pretty wretchedly damage the wolf’s soft tongue. There had not been a pair of venom-dripping fangs in the mixture, but there had been, and still was, a great deal of pain.
 
So Fomoir was hustling on toward the standing stones, hoping to get the attention of a member of their unique little pack, who could help him out. And in a truly pitiful, unavoidably sorrowful voice, he moaned out…
 
”Helb. Uff anybobby iff awound, helb...”
 
He felt like a puppy who had been bitten by the first gopher they cased out into the open… And that wasn’t too far from the truth. The snakebite on his tongue was a half-circle of blood on the top and bottom of his organ, and ouch did it not feel good! He hoped he’d get somebody’s attention, and assistance, with his sad little groans.

@Adria
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^^Adria couldn’t quite say that being a freak of nature ever really had its perks; she felt like she didn’t belong anywhere, really. Her fur was much too dark for the tundra, but also much too light for the forest. She was like a sore thumb that was literally everywhere, and she’d hoped that being something of a medic, or plant lover would be something that someone needed - she wasn’t the best hunter unless she chased her prey to death.

Nonetheless, Adria was coming back from the Needle with a mouth full of horsetail and witch hazel, when she thought she smelled canine blood - it wasn’t quite that strong, though so she couldn’t tell, especially with all these other herbs in her mouth.

She was on her way to her den - having wanted to turn it into a mini jungle / lab with all the herbs she could ever need, when she’d heard the most pitiful cries for help that she had ever heard.

Her ears perked, and her head tilted to the side as she narrowed her eyes. Maybe it really had been blood she’d smelled. Taking a sharp left turn, Adria followed the source of the moaning, to a smaller canine that looked to be about the same age as her and he was definitely bleeding.

“Here, suck on this. It'll stop the bleeding. I can't say it'll taste good, though.” She'd said, placing the witch hazel at his feet.

^^
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Fomoir caught the scent of an approaching female wolf, but it was hard to focus on it, and somehow the pain in his tongue was making his nose hard to use! He took a careful look at her as she came near, certain that she must also be part of the new little group that was forming in this region. She dropped a wild little plant in front of him, with almost monstrous yellow flowers whose petals looked like reaching, grasping yellow tentacles… Not that Fomoir knew what a tentacle was.
 
”Fenk you...” he muttered, both sounding and feeling pathetic. He wasn’t a particularly prideful wolf; he wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable. This was more of an embarrassment! He had harmed himself as certainly as if he had bit his own tongue. The snake had taught him a hard lesson.
 
He gingerly picked up the witch hazel in his mouth, a bit of bloody drool falling into the dirt which he politely tried to cover with a kick of dust. The pain in his tongue faded slightly, particularly as his mind started focusing on the very strange and definitely unpleasant taste of the plant. At least it was better than the coppery taste of his own lifeblood.
 
Lamely, and with his mouth full of plant, Fomoir tried to communicate to the newcomer his name. Without being able to speak, he realized he had no way to express something like a name. Instead, he wiggled his body slowly, from tail to tip, imitating a snake. He hoped this pantomime would help give the female an idea of what had happened to him.
 
Either that, or he’d look stark raving mad.

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^^Pappa had always told her to be more cautious when helping strangers, but did Adria ever listen? No, not she did not, because she believed in this thing called karma and fate, and believed if she did anyone wrong - karma would come to slap her across the face with a reality check.

So as this wolf muttered something that sounded like fuck you, Adria tried not to take it personal, in assumption that his tongue was bleeding and his words were not clear. He did not seem aggressive, nor did he try to attack her -

and most importantly, he took the witch hazel without hesitation and apparently started to have some sort of seizure as his body began to wiggle. Er, this was the strangest seizure she’d ever witnessed, and quickly took her eyes off him to look around at the plant life that was nearby, but knew she would not find any close by, as they were all plants that required a source of water nearby.

The closest was a little river behind her, or the Watering Hole - but she didn’t want to leave his side if he was having an episode.

She took in his scents; not really registering anything in his sugars, anything to tell her - you know, aside from the snake movement - that he was having one.

“I know you’re faking it.”

^^
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Fomoir’s eyes opened wide with surprise, and he shook his head in protest of her accusation. He was mortified. I’m not faking! I’m bleeding from the tongue! he thought to himself, shocked that anyone would consider him duplicitous. He considered himself an honorable, honest creature! The miserable wolf opened his witch-hazel-stuffed mouth to try to speak, but all that came out was a blob that is better off not described. He shut his yap. 

He looked down, grimaced at the grossness that had oozed out, and put a wide wolfy paw into the dry dust nearby. He drew, in the most generous use of the word ‘drew’, a long and squiggly line, and then backed off from it, only to wiggle again in another pantomiming attempt. He couldn’t handle being considered a malingerer… and he really was starting to feel... pretty heated about that. Very hot, in fact, with most of that heat seeming to come from his throat...

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^^Adria would watch, with a judgemental glare and arch of her brow, as his little body stopped wiggling in that formation as he failed to verbally protest. Her ears lowered and that arched brow arched even higher with the nod of her head as if to say: uh huh, I totally don’t believe you.

And then he slammed his paw down in to the dirt, made a long squiggly line and continued on with his wiggles. Oh! Oh! She understood now. He was having an allergic reaction - yet, he didn’t seem to be in any more pain. Maybe it wasn’t a fatal reaction - thank goodness, it just made him loopy?

No, no - that can’t be right. Ah, it didn’t matter.

“You should be fine to spit it out now. ” Adria mused, tilting her head at him.

^^
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Fomoir, his body sagging in shame and pain and discomfort, turned so that what he was about to do was out of sight. He opened his mouth and let the junk fall. He really did feel better; the herbs were quickly doing their work, and now, perhaps with them out of the way, he could try to explain to this kindly she-wolf that he wasn’t faking it, and that he certainly was bitten by a snake!
 
”God bid by a sneg.” he mumbled helplessly, his ears turned downward. Ugh, this is awful. I feel like a puppy, hurting myself and then crying about it.
 
Fomoir decided that if telling wasn’t working, showing might. He extended his hurt tongue, trying to show the bright-red half-circles on the organ. This she-wolf knew her medicine; she’d be able to tell what he was trying to show her… right?

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^^This allergic reaction was so bad that it had him speaking different languages, good god. An ear flickered, amused that he had enough respect to spit out the herbs out of sight. It got her mind thinking of things that she probably shouldn’t be thinking of -

And then he extended his tongue out so that she could check on it, she guessed, and leaning closer, she wiggled her nose at the witchhazel breath as she glanced at his tongue. And there it was, two vampire puncture marks.

“So, I’ve got bad news and good news. Bad news is that you’ll become a vampire, feeding on the blood of others… and you’ll be burned by the sunlight. Good news is that you’ll be immortal, at least?? Unless you turn to flames cus of the sunlight??”

Somehow, she was able to say this was a straightface, while looking him in the eyes. After his reaction, she’d burst into laughter, shaking her head and pawing at the air. “Kidding! I’m kidding, I see you were bitten by a sna -OH I guess that explains the wiggling? I’m so sorry, I thought you were faking a seizure.”

^^
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For a moment… a long moment, Fomoir believed her. Vampire? VAMPIRE?! From a snake!? His brown eyes widened during that frightful second of belief, as he suddenly imagined a life of wandering bloodsucking, biting into his fellow wolves and drinking of their crimson lifeblood. Hiding from the light of the sun, howling at the frozen moon…
 
Ahh. She’s kidding.
 
”Huegh huegh.” the wolf managed to chuckle, a gross ooze of spit-blood making its way out of his numbed mouth. ”No see-shurgh. Sneg.” Fomoir wiggled again, harkening back to his earlier attempt at pantomiming.
 
With the healing herbs already doing their work, Fomoir took a seat with a huff, and more closely scrutinized the female who had come to his aid. She was taller than he, which didn’t take much; Fomoir was of average height, and Canis seemed to attract tall wolves. The patterning across her muzzle was remarkable; there angles and marks of chocolate brown mixed with the clear and creamy white, and along her body, the tiger-stripes continued. As he squinted through his pain, he wondered if her eyes were the same color or not.
 
”Who you?” he queried, trying to avoid words that were hard to pronounce with a numb tongue. ”Whud your...”[b] he wanted to ask ‘What is your story?’ but S’s were tough. [b]”Whud up wih you?”
 
Yeah, let’s go with that.

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^^Numb Tongue chuckled a sound she’d never heard and Adria came to wonder if he was actually trying to speak or not. She decided that no, those were definitely sounds he was making and not words. He wiggled again, trying to mimic that of a snake, still.

Then came his questions. Ah, of course he’d want to learn more about her, she supposed. She wasn’t sure how she liked the way he was staring at her, though. “My name is Adria. I am of no pack, and of no relation,” Adria would say, totally unaware of her existing cousin in Canis, who looked much like her - minus all the white.

“You cried for help, so here I am. Pleasure doing business with you. Stay away from snakes, eh?”

^^
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Fomoir, ignorant of the unspoken nickname he had rightly earned, listened carefully as she shared who she was. He winced a little at the, admittedly accurate, depiction of how he had asked for help.

Ah damn, I ought to give her my name too. Okay, here goes...

The he-wolf brought a paw in towards his chest, and said "Fum-oo-eer."

Yeah, she'll understand that.

In response to her urging that he stay away from snakes, he reflexively said "You too.", though it was only he that needed the reminder! Without wanting to take up any more of her kindly time, Fomoir bowed and made his departure, needing to find some isolated shade to lie in and recover! He did make a mental note to try to remember Adria's scent; perhaps he'd find a way to pay her back someday?

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