Taken In (Jan and Alex)

[Django]

A throbbing pain in Django's shoulder woke him from a rather satisfying sleep. He groaned softly and opened his eyes. He felt cold, damp and sore. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. He could at least tell he was on a comfortable bed and that he was in some sort of building. Propping himself up onto one elbow, he rubbed his head and eyes. Now able to see better, he looked around him.

Then, reality hit him as he recalled the events of the previous night: his father's death, pain from being shot by an arrow, being carried by an otter, and then an otter healer taking care of his wounds. Django's eyes went damp, but he rubbed them again in frustration. He would NOT cry again. He was wet enough. He stood quickly, but then fell to all fours in pain. He brought one of his hind paws forward and examined it with a hiss of agony. The healer otter must have overlooked this last night. It was swollen and sore, but a scab was trying to form itself over the wound. Django got up gingerly, sitting himself back on the bed.

He rubbed his sore foot, noticing another beast sleeping in a bed nearby. It was the otter from the night before. Alecsander, Django recalled. The mouse smiled as he watched the gentle rise and fall of the otter's middle. Django hoped he was having a good sleep. He turned to the window, and noticed a shaft of sunlight begin to pour into the room. With a small sigh, he lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling of sandstone. He recalled the healer otter's request from last night for him to stay until morning.

"Ain't no place for me ta go," Django whispered to no one in particular. "Ain't no reason for me to leave."

[Treble Tiderunner]

Alecsander picked at the bandage, but without any real interest in removing it, more as a distraction. All of that digging had brought his awareness of the barbed point straight to the fore. He shifted, moving in careful stages. Hellgates, who knew that a simple arrowhead lodge between ribs could hurt so much?

He grimaced at the draught the healer brought him, but drank it and lay back against the pillow. The big otter closed his eyes, letting his mind wander where it would as his body drifted towards sleep.

A gentle whisper of wind woke Alec, but when he finally opened his eyes, there was no wind, only stone walls and rows of beds. He tried to lift his arms, stretch out a little, but ran into two problems. One, the bed was too short and narrow. Two, his muscles were sore and his side was one big ache. He grimaced and pushed it away, concentrating for a while. Finally he looked around, curious about the room he had only been in once before, and for a very brief time.

He turned his head and encountered the gaze of the young spotted mouse. “’Morning.” He said, his voice gruff with accumulated sleep.


[[Please only write in third person, Luke, thanks!]]

[Django]

Django looked over at the big otter and smiled. "G'mornin', Mister Alecsander," he said quietly. Bringing himself up into a sitting position, he stretched his arms, yawning. He began rotating his bad shoulder slowly, loosening it up.

He quickly recalled how the otter had gotten shot in the side and, suddenly feeling guilty about his savior's injuries, gave the otter a worried look. "Um, m'sorry 'bout you gettin' shot las' night, sir," he apologized. "How are you feelin'?"

((Sorry it's so short. I did what I could.))

[Tirael]

"How are you feelin'?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," Tirael said, shutting the infirmary door behind him. It was already somewhat late in the morning; refreshed from the first good night's sleep he'd had in a while, he had practiced with his staff for an hour, grabbed a quick breakfast, and brought two more portions up to the infirmary for Alex and Django. Evidently, they'd just woken up. He was glad of that: at least they'd been resting well, too. "You must be hungry. Here, eat, if there's nothing urgent I can wait until you're done."

Setting a tray by each of their bedsides, he walked over to his desk, pulled out a journal, and sat down. After thinking a moment, he grabbed a quill and began to write. Examination could wait until after his patients were full.

[Django]

Django tucked into the food gratefully, nodding his thanks to Tirael. He'd never had food like this before. He and his father had been living off the land all Django's life. This was ambrosia to the young mouse.

When he finished, he set his tray on a bedside table. "I've ne'er 'ad food that good," he said. "Your cooks are amazing!" He rubbed his shoulder again, exhaling slowly even though it hurt to move the limb.

"So, um, yew said last night that I should at least stay til mornin'" Django said suddenly, watching Tirael write in the journal. "I jus' wanna say that I ain't leavin'. My da an' I was plannin' on stayin'. Jus' so yew know . . ." He trailed off, bringing his footpaw up and rubbing it gently.