Child of Man: Chapter 6, Part 1

The only sounds that reached Alex’s ears in the wake of Watcher’s pronouncement were the labored breathing of four people and the pounding of the blood in his own ears. As the rush of the adrenalin from his exertions faded, he broke out in a cold sweat that clung clammily to his skin. He sank to his knees, leaning forward to brace himself with one hand, the other clutching at his lower abdomen as his stomach rebelled. Stale coffee, bile and bits of oversweet pastry spattered the ground in front of him as he retched, his guts twisting themselves inside out as his body rebelled against the sudden exertion.

Over and over, his body spasmed, until he was dry heaving, his throat raw, his temples throbbing. He coughed, wiping the sticky mess from his lips with the back of one hand. He tried to stand, but it felt as if his legs had forgotten how to obey him, and weakly he rolled onto his side, then his back, groaning in pain as every muscle in his body seemed to cramp at once.

Warm, soft fingerpads brushed against his forehead, then his temples. He opened his eyes, but only blurred shapes moved above him, and then the fingers rested against his eyelids and gently closed them again. “Relax,” Briar cooed, stroking the Child of Man’s face with her paws. “Try to calm down.”

Alex drew in a deep breath, ticking off the seconds as he held it, then forced himself to exhale heavily, until his lungs burned from lack of air. Then in again, and out again, dragging himself slowly back to the now of his meditations. One hand moved clumsily to clutch at the bear-claw necklace that hung from his neck. Great Mother guide me, he mouthed, trying to still the churning in his stomach, the cramping in his legs and arms. The burning in his guts eased as he breathed, and slowly he felt safe in opening his eyes again, looking up at the rabbit. “I’m sorry,” he protested weakly, trying to sit up, to clear the greenish stain from his chin with the back of one hand. “I’m just—”

Briar shook her head. “You’re not used to this,” she answered gently. “We know.”

Watcher’s voice intruded into Alex’s ears from somewhere behind the rabbit’s back. “Mr. Demont? I need your help.”

Alex coughed a final time and pushed himself upright, his stomach only spasming once in protest. He rolled up onto one hip and looked over his shoulder, where the tan-furred Child of Wolf knelt next to the fallen Shadowdance. The grey wolf lay sprawled on the ground, groaning weakly and pawing at the ground, carving shallow furrows in the ground with his claws. His tongue lolled from his muzzle, wheezing with every panting breath. “He’s overexerted himself,” Watcher explained unnecessarily. “Briar is in no condition to help me carry him. Are you well enough to assist?”

Alex sat still for a moment, shifting his legs to make sure they would respond to his will, then nodded, heaving himself upright with a groan of his own. As he raised himself to his feet, his eyes again caught sight of the crude bandage wrapped around one of the rabbit’s ankles, the once-green leaves encasing the swollen flesh now brown with dried blood. “What happened with that, anyway?” He gestured towards her injured paw as he turned his face upwards to Briar’s.

She shifted nervously under his focused stare, starting to put weight on her injured leg, then suddenly jerking sideways to recover her balance as her injured leg threatened to give way. “It’s nothing.” Her words sounded dismissive, but she said them with level openness. Despite the swaying from her misstep, she stood relaxed, balanced easily on the pads of her uninjured foot.

The corner of Alex’s lip curled down into a slight frown. “You should still at least change the dressing on it, or let Watcher do it.” She could act disinterested all she wanted, but the sight of the crudely treated injury still bothered him.

“Later, when there’s time,” Briar replied, hobbling backwards and turning towards the bundled pile of gathered herbs that Watcher had dropped. “Right now we should worry about Dancer. I’ll worry about these; you help Watcher get him back to the clearing.”

The would-be bear watched her work, sifting through the sparse grasses to carefully separate out small branches and clumps of berries. Occasionally, she would lift one to her nose to sniff at it, comparing the scent to the still-bundled pile. Once, he caught a glimpse of her biting into a small length of wood, immediately turning her head and spitting at the foul taste. Some she added to the growing stack of gathered greenery, others she tossed aside, working methodically across the ground where Watcher had been standing. She held herself with a strange rigidity, her ears constantly swiveling atop her head as if scanning her surroundings, as if she expected to be attacked again. Come to think of it, Alex realized, she probably did. This was supposed to be friendly territory, but someone or something had invaded it, assaulted someone within, and then vanished again without a trace.

The tan-furred Child of Wolf drew Alex out of his contemplation. “Mr. Demont, please. Leave Briar to that; Shadowdance needs help, and quickly.” The wolf’s voice shook slightly, clearly agitated.

Alex glanced over, then jogged over and knelt, one hand on the ground, the other on the grey wolf’s shoulder. Shadowdance wheezed, coughing fitfully with every breath. He licked at his muzzle, his tongue thick. His eyes were open but unseeing, staring vacantly overhead. His paws batted at the air, but whether he thought he was running or fighting, Alex had no way to tell. A whine escaped Shadowdance’s muzzle, and his body shook.

“He’s feverish again,” Watcher commented tightly. Rough fingerpads brushed against the prone wolf’s muzzle, and then he leaned forward to lick at Shadowdance’s nosepad. “He’s dry and hot as well. All this agitation has aggravated the poisons in his system.” His ears went flat, a low growl escaping the back of his throat. “If I catch those responsible….” His voice trailed off there, and suddenly the wolf seemed to sag, slumping against the ground. He hadn’t moved, but a sudden sapping weariness, much as Alex had so recently escaped, came over him, making him look far older than he was. “Mr. Demont, please. Lift his hindquarters. Support from beneath.” The words were an order, but the tone made them a request.

Alex quickly moved down to Shadowdance’s legs and knelt, working to get his hands beneath the wolf’s rump without pulling at the fur. The grey wolf whined again but made no effort to squirm away from Alex’s grip, and with a nod from Watcher the two stood again, their shared burden surprisingly light. Alex expected the wolf to be heavier, but with both of them carrying him he seemed quite easy to move. Alex looked down the length of the wolf’s body and grimaced. Fur was missing from large patches of his underbelly, and the exposed skin looked unhealthy, a raw pinkish red, tautly wrinkled and covered in tiny blisters and white pus-filled dots. He really is making himself sicker, Alex realized. Every time he moves, whatever poison was introduced into his lands is making him worse.

He raised his head from Shadowdance to Watcher, but the view surprised him. The other wolf was physically healthy, but he looked haggard and worn. His fur was matted and flat, ungroomed compared to the time he had come unannounced to Alex’s apartment. His eyes seemed glassy, staring into the distance without focus, and his tail hung limp behind him as if defeated. For a moment, Alex wondered which of the two were truly more hurt by the events, but the thought lasted only until Watcher turned his attention back to his charge, his ears perking slightly as he smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Demont. Now, quickly, back to the campsite. Briar,” he called to the rabbit as he turned, walking backwards and leading Alex towards the river with the other wolf between them, “come quickly. Bring what you can, and leave the rest; some, in this case, is far better than none.”