Recovery [[Open]]

[Tirael]

"You do realize I was joking. This is nothing compared to my two swords! Besides, the last thing you need is another injury. I don't think you would be able to eat if you got another one."

Raising an eyebrow at Violet's apparently identical thoughts to his own, Tirael shrugged and said, "Well, then feel free to carry it all you like. It's no problem for me." Giving Violet a thinly disguised smirk, he entered Fogg's room. The largish otter was relaxing in an armchair; his wife was doing her ow duties, so he was alone. Or, at least, had been alone; he was clearly pleased to see his tiny visitors, taking on the same innocent joy they were.

Smiling, Tirael sat next to him on a stool, taking his bag from Violet and setting it down. "Morning, Fogg. Anything wrong, hurting?" Fogg smiled, closed his eyes, and shook his head, saying in his deep baritone, "Nothin' at all, Tir. You're healin's' good as ever." Tirael gave an embarrassed smile as he began to look over the various bandaged spots. Nothing seemed to be out of order, but a binding was lose. "Hang on, gotta redress this one, that should be it, though." Humoring a Dibbun that had apparently decided he was more interesting than Fogg at the moment, the healer looked up at Brookesong and said, "Could you redress that wound?", pointing at the loose bandage. "I still seem to only have one useful paw."

[Brooke]

"Could you redress that wound?", pointing at the loose bandage. "I still seem to only have one useful paw." said Tirael.

Violet grinned and put down the pack. She dug through it trying to find bandages. After a couple moments she held up a roll triumphantly. Pretending to be exhausted, she said, "Please don't tell me that you need poultice too... I don't think that I would be able to find it before dinner." Then grinning at the Dibbuns who looked terrified at the aspect of missing a meal, "Kidding, kidding. I think the one he needs was right next to the bandages." she dug around and pulled out the small little jar. "See."

---

Brooke grabbed the bandages and poultice from Violet.. "Ah, quit being so dramatic!" she then turned to Fogg. Shooting a dirty look at Tirael, she complied and unwrapped the wound. "Uh Tirs, you might wanna look at this, I think something went wrong."

[Tirael]

"Uh Tirs, you might wanna look at this, I think something went wrong."

Tirael's carefree attitude morphed quickly into one of concern. Moving to Fogg's side, he examined the wound, his expression growing grim. "Violet, take the Dibbuns out, please." He didn't want them getting scared for Fogg, who was such a friend to them. He gave Violet an urgent look, knowing that she would do what was needed.

Once the room was cleared of young ones, the otter sighed. "Part of the wound is infected. The good news is that Brooke caught it before it spread much. The bad news is, I'll have to cut away the infected area. You'll be out of commission a while longer, and it'll hurt, but you'll go on living a full, healthy life." It was the only option; that, or let him fight it out himself, in which case he'd probably die, something Tirael had no intention of allowing to happen.

[Brooke]

"Violet, take the Dibbuns out, please." He didn't want them getting scared for Fogg, who was such a friend to them. He gave Violet an urgent look, knowing that she would do what was needed. Violet, catching the look shot at her, quickly ushered the dibbuns out. She told them they could have some cakes so that they wouldn't suspect anything was wrong.

---

Brooke took steadying breaths as the dibbuns were ushered out.

"Part of the wound is infected. The good news is that Brooke caught it before it spread much. The bad news is, I'll have to cut away the infected area. You'll be out of commission a while longer, and it'll hurt, but you'll go on living a full, healthy life."

Brooke patted Fogg's arm soothingly. Then, mock glaring at him. "Why didn't you tell us that you were in pain. This could have been taken care of even earlier if you had spoken up!" She turned to Tirael, "Tell me what you need me to do, I just want to get this over with before it stresses anyone out." I can do this... Nothing will go wrong. she thought to herself.

[Tirael]

"Why didn't you tell us that you were in pain. This could have been taken care of even earlier if you had spoken up!"

Fogg looked confusedly at Brooke. "But it didn't hurt, how was I suppose to know about it?" He looked to Tirael, as if to confirm that he hadn't been in pain. The healer nodded, then turned to Brookesong. "It wouldn't necessarily hurt, Brooke, not at this stage." If it had progressed further, it would eventually; he was just glad it had been caught this early.

"Tell me what you need me to do, I just want to get this over with before it stresses anyone out."

Taking Brookesong aside, Tirael spoke in a low, firm tone. "Well, we need to get him to the infirmary so we can operate. Find somebeasts to carry the stretcher, but try to find some that won't get too scared for him, it'll only slow them down or make them clumsy. Once we get there, hopefully with as little attention as possible, we can end this problem before it starts. Hurry now!" He placed a paw on her shoulder briefly; she was going to have to be an adult for the next few hours, and despite her occasional bouts of silliness, he knew he could count on her. Sitting by Fogg, he said reassuringly, "It'll be alright, this happens every now and then." The burly otter smiled at him just as reassuringly. "Tir, I think you're more worried than I am. Don't, you're a good healer, you'll get me through this."

[Brooke]

Brookesong quickly thought over who she could grab and who would be fine without making a scene. Leaving Fogg's room, she hurried to the main hall. Once there, she grabbed four strong otters from Skipp's crew, explaining what had happened as they hurried back to the room.

They arrived in a disorderly fashion because all the other otters with Brooke wanted to get in first to see Fogg... You can guess that Brooke, being the smallest, got stepped on and shoved and smushed several times.

"Well Tirael, I got four able bodied otters who won't make a big deal about this. Oh darn it, I forgot to grab a stretcher. I'll go get that... It'll take me two ticks!" She ran out of the room and down to the infirmary. She took more time coming back as she went through secluded areas so that no one would notice she was carrying a stretcher.

When she got back to Fogg's room, she set the stretcher down, and went to Fogg's side. "Now, if you feel any pain at all while we're carrying you down, tell us so that we can help you to get comfier. I'm ready when you are guys." She buried her paws in the folds of her dress and clenched them to stop their trembling. There's no need to get so worried about this, everything will be Ok... she thought over and over to herself.

[Tirael]

"Tir, I think you're more worried than I am. Don't, you're a good healer, you'll get me through this."

The healer smiled uncertainly, only gaining some confidence. Slowly, though, he felt less nervous, knowing that Fogg was tough, and that the procedure was actually pretty routine.

He looked up as Brookesong came into the room with four of Skipper's crew: two males, two females. Kevv, Whulky, Saria, and Anya.

Oh no.

Anya.

Fogg's wife.

Though she hid it well, experience from his job told Tirael that she was terrified for her husband. She went over and hugged him, the worry in her voice apparent only to the infirmary keeper. "Hey, dear, they told me you weren't feeling well." Fogg hugged her back affectionately. "That's what the doctor says, I guess." The infirmary keeper wished Brookesong would get back with the stretched already; Anya was getting more stressed by the second, and he could see the effect it was having on Fogg.

When Brookesong arrived, Tirael directed Fogg's transfer to the stretcher. Once this had been accomplished, he said to Brooke, "Alright, check it over quickly and we can get moving." Moving over to Anya, he murmured, "Don't worry, this is a safe, common procedure. Be strong, Anya. Be strong for Fogg. He needs you to be." She bit her lip, eyes downcast, and nodded. Nodding sympathetically, he turned to Brookesong. "All set?"

[Brooke]

"All set?" asked Tirael.

"As ready as we'll ever be! Now, let's move out!" She then proceeded to walk out the door in front of the procession of otters. "Now, let's take the back ways so we don't needlessly annoy anyone." Then, turning to Anya she said, "I guarantee Fogg'll be fine. He's a good strong otter and we caught the infection extremely early." she patted Anya's shoulder sympathetically.

When they arrived at the Infirmary, she turned to Tirael. "What do you need me to do first?"

[Tirael]

"I guarantee Fogg'll be fine. He's a good strong otter and we caught the infection extremely early."

Anya smiled weakly, holding up her corner of the stretcher. Fogg sighed, clearly guilty about worrying his wife this much. Tirael adjusted him on the stretcher, murmuring, "It's not your fault. She's taking it better than you'd think." Fogg didn't seem fully convinced, though the infirmary keeper wouldn't expect him to be. Patients never were. But the burlier otter smiled encouragingly at his wife, who seemed heartened by the sight. Tirael felt relieved; maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

After a few minutes, and only one encounter with another Camp resident, the little convoy had made it to the infirmary. As Fogg was transferred to a bed, Tirael gathered a pawful of the various tools and materials he would need. Seeing Brookesong looking helpful, he took her aside and held a quiet, hasty conference with her. "Brooke, I need you to keep Anya occupied while I'm doing this surgery, There's not much I'll need help with, I can do without this arm sling for a little while. Just...make sure Anya's not too concerned." Dismissing the four of Skipper's crew who had helped, he prepared for the surgery ahead. Administering a sedative to Fogg, he gave one final reassurance. "Everything's gonna be just fine. Think of Anya, you'll make it." The otter's eyes flickered closed, and Tirael began his work.