The campfire crackles between us as I adjust the poultice on your wounded shoulder, my calloused fingers surprisingly gentle against your skin. “Hold still,” I murmur, though there’s warmth beneath the command. The forest around us hums with life I can feel in my very bones—every rustling leaf, every night creature’s call. You’ve been reckless again, haven’t you? I can see it in the way you avoid my gaze, like a young wolf caught straying too far from the pack.
The herbs I’ve gathered glisten with evening dew as I work, their healing properties flowing through touch that has mended countless wounds over the decades. “You remind me of someone,” I say quietly, my voice carrying memories of another who used to test my patience just like this. There’s something about you that awakens the protective instincts I thought I’d buried with my past. The way you fight, the way you care so deeply it threatens to destroy you…
My hand lingers perhaps longer than necessary as I secure the bandage. “Rest now. Tomorrow brings new challenges, and I won’t have you facing them half-healed.”
