Heals, Healed, Will Heal

Annette hated the unfamiliar. It was her one true fault, really. Well not her one fault. The honey colored pup knew that she had more faults than that. She was unyielding, she was stubborn, but most of all, she wasn't the most adaptable. This was all the same thing, but it came to her in different ways. She thought Corona was an interesting city, but she didn't like it nearly as much as Marceline. She missed her hometown, even though it was her own choice to leave. Well it wasn't her choice, as much as a necessary choice made due to the actions of her family.

Even so, there were slightly interesting aspects of Corona. One of the most interesting being the lion slumped on the ground. That was enough to give the Cocker mix pause. Logic told her that lions didn't belong in the middle of a city, but logic left the second the worlds collided. Annette blinked, looking at Isuelt as she called out for those who needed healing?

A lion who was a healer. The world was strange in so many unimaginable ways.

Annette approached cautiously, even though they were in a clearly relaxed position. Annette didn't want to be judgmental, another flaw of hers. She took a deep breath in, steadying herself, before approaching. She had questions, lots of them. The first was how on earth a lion could heal anything. Annette knew that they could be capable of a great many things, but she also associated healing with humans. It was the curse of being a sheltered house pet, anything that needed to be done would be handled by humans.

And now was a great time to star learning how to handle things on her own.

"You're a healer?" Annette asked, walking up to Isuelt. She felt stupid asking such an obvious question, but the pretty pup didn't know how else to start the conversation. "How did you learn how to do that?" It was asked with a note of genuine curiosity. Annette did want to know how a lion could come into such skills and some part of her wanted to learn how to do that herself.

”How ‘bout, ‘how do you get thorns out of pads?’” Burst the excited voice of one sunny lion cub from behind a corner. The rest of Taiwo normally would have had the same burst in body language coming on the scene, too. But he wasn’t feeling it today. Yup, just a lack of enthusiasm, that’s all it was. Certainly nothing to do with the limp he decidedly didn’t have, stepping gingerly into the open. ”Just...you know, for kicks. Hippo-thetically.”

Taiwo grinned, sheepishly displaying his chipped tooth, and tried to sit down without putting weight on his right front foot...but without looking like he wasn’t putting weight on it. Okay, so he’d stepped on a briar. There was too much stuff around here. Even racing Puff and Fluff on these streets he’d thought were so clear, what happened to be right in the way? A fountain. No fountains in the Pridelands. Of course, if he’d watched where he was going like his brother was always saying to, it wouldn’t have happened. But Fluff had been gaining and Taiwo felt the need to talk a little smack and demoralize his friend in the sky. A little headache was worth it.

Thorns, though. They didn’t go away. They stuck. They weren’t the kind of friend the lemon cub liked to make...too clingy. And sting-y.

Maybe this slate-colored lionness wouldn’t ask too many questions, though. After all, any other adult would probably scold him for being so far away from the Suns—again—and drag him back to the forest. But he had to do something while he waited for his brother to come back, and the shady groves got boring once you’d been to the human places.

The healer had just glanced at her cubs (whom Taiwo fully intended on playing with when his pads were less tender) and didn’t look like the type of fussy mom the Pridelands were stuffed with. Even her voice while she talked to this little jackal-thing—sorry, ‘dog’—sounded bored, like his big brother’s did when Taiwo told him about the latest drama in beetle world. So yeah. She might just...tell Taiwo, real convenient, the best way to get a thorn out without all the teeth and pulling and ouch and soreness that Jaribu had used last time.

I’d let him pull a whole bush of thorns off of me if he would just be here right now.

Where had that come from? Taiwo flicked his ears back up, surprised to find they’d been drooping. He turned his manic grin onto Anette and winked. ”Maybe a trick that gets it out with no ‘yowch.’ Something slippery maybe? I’ve tried spit—uh, before. A long time ago. Not recently or anything. Ooo, maybe honey? No, honey’s sticky. You don’t have honey, do you?”

The fluffy head was pointed at the lioness again. Yikes, her teeth were bigger than Jaribu’s. What if she said no and figured out the pesky pointy thing was in between his toes, and tried yanking after all? Maybe this hadn’t been a great idea. But...the sooner his foot was better, the sooner he could maybe ask this dog to play tag. Lions were faster than dogs, surely.

Iseult raised an eyebrow at the addition of the new question, not at all surprised it happened to the small cub. For a city, Corona had a surprising amount of vegetation nearby; which would be fine if there weren’t so many bramble-bushes. And thorns. It was beginning to border on unsafe, really. Turning their attention back to Taiwo, they nodded. “You know someone who got one stuck?” Iseult questioned, having picked up what he was asking for in between the lines, and was playing along. That and the way he was cautious as to how he moved his foot was a dead giveaway. “It’s not difficult at all. I just need to pull it out and put a salve on it- to stop it from hurting.” Iseult explained, carefully selecting their words. Their tone was also a lot more gentle than usual, as talking to children often required a gentler touch than adults.

And besides, there was no need to unnecessarily stress him out too, especially when Taiwo had came up to them and asked for help. Technically, help for his friend; but everyone knew who the little cub was referring to. “A trick, hmm?” Iseult hummed, trying to determine the best possible, and painless, option. But at the mention of spit as a way to “unstick” the thorn, the silver lion frowned. “Spit won’t work. Your friend’s grip on the thorn could slip or they could twist the thorn in further.” Honey however, would work out well. Not as a lubricant, but as an antiseptic. It would be sticky, yes but it certainly beat having an infected cut. And if there was no honey, then maybe Aloe vera. That is, if there was any lying around the city.

As Iseult was about to open their mouth and speak once again, Annette jumped in. Whether the cocker mix was aware of it or not, the lion had been watching her very carefully, crimson eyes boring into her. So, she was quick to react. That was not necessarily bad, but a certain degree of patience was needed when it came to being a healer. And not to mention; a decent bedside manner. Especially when it came to the patient’s own ideas regarding their injuries. Behind them, their tail flicked.

And when Annette suggested pulling, no yanking, out the thorn from Taiwo’s paws, Iseult rose to their feet while a growl emerged from the back of their throat. A warning. “Enough.” This had gone on long enough and they decided it was time to put their foot down. “Neither of you are entirely right, but neither are wrong either. Yes, you would have to pull it out somehow: especially if the thorn is lodged in. However, honey is useful when it comes to cleaning the wound, despite how sticky it is.” They finished, scowling a little. When Annette turned to them, the earnest genuineness to start healing in her expression caused them pause.

It reminded Iseult of themself, back when they were starting out under their own mentor. But at the same time, they couldn’t let what had just happened slide by with no repercussions. Not only was it a poor sign on behalf of Annette but it wasn’t fair to Taiwo either. So, the cocker spaniel mix would have her first lesson- even though it probably wouldn’t be what she expected.

“If you can be gentle with the thorn removal, then yes.” They stated pointedly, glancing at the paw in question. If Annette was not and yanked out the thorn instead, then Iseult would step in and remove it themself- and hopefully painlessly as possible. “First lesson: do no harm. You’re meant to help your patient, not hurt them any further. You don't know what unseen damage you could be doing." Or insult them for that matter. "Is that understood?” They turned their gaze back onto Annette and once they thought the lesson had sunk in, Iseult leaned down and gently nudged Taiwo’s side with their head.

“Turn over your paw, please. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Taiwo’s crooked grin gained an extra squiggle. The honeycomb-colored puppy was so fussy! She talked like she knew everything, and wasn’t he stupid for not also knowing everything. Creamy round ears scooped forward to catch more of her snippy words. Maybe it was because he’d lived his whole life with only one other companion at a time. Unlike other young animals prone to bickering and temper tantrums, Taiwo found unfriendly friends fascinating. The more the spaniel’s eyebrows scrunched, the funnier he thought it was. He’d had a beetle like this once.

The cub remembered. A sunny day, hours of loneliness broken by watching two beetles and a millipede fight it out. Well, the millipede and green beetle were pretty peaceful. It was the blue one that kept scuttling around the small hole Taiwo had dug in a shiny rage. When Jaribu’s big brown head had poked through the grasses, smelling of fresh food, Taiwo was all too eager to tell him the insect news. When Jaribu heard how Schnozzy (the name Taiwo had given the blue beetle for it’s pointy nose) was venting his small anger, flipping the other two bugs over, he’d said, Not everybody can be champion relaxers like us. Even some bugs don’t know how to take it easy.

It seemed like everybody in this war thing didn’t know how to take it easy. At least from a certain lemon cat’s short view.

Suddenly the dog was talking about pulling the thorn out. Taiwo’s pad throbbed as if in protest. ”Gyeep!” Jaribu’s brother tucked his injured foreleg close to his chest and twisted away from the puppy. ”I-It’s not me! It’s my—my friend. I’m totally fine, no thorns here, never touched a thorn in my—”

”Enough.“

Taiwo’s tail joined his ears and belly in a race to see which body part could sink to the cobblestones first. Yikes, this lioness was nothing like mom. Or Jaribu. She sort of sounded like thunder before it clapped, when it was just all growly and commanding the sky. Clouds her color had chased Fluff straight out of the savannah. He didn’t often want to be small and unseen. This stranger made Taiwo feel like sitting still and being quiet as long as her sunset eyes glinted around.

But the stuff she was saying was interesting enough, so soon the child’s awe died away. The smile was just working itself back onto the round muzzle at the mention of honey. Then she had to go and ruin it by demanding that he turned his paw over.

The kid scowled, freckle-spots rippling into the crinkles of his nose. ”...Fine.” He extended the foot, starting to grow out of cub-chub, towards the shiny black nose of the spaniel. The offending spit of wood was firmly embedded inbetween two of his toes, not quite in the pad. He tried for a brave, mischievous smile. ”You hear that? Gentle.”

He was momentarily distracted by a new voice, talking funnier than even the vultures he and Jaribu scared off. Fluffy head curved over one shoulder to eye another dog, injured limb still under Anette’s snout. ”Hey!” Offered Taiwo conversationally. ”You’re a dog too, right? Do dogs have sharp teeth? I mean you look like jackals, and they have sharp teeth, and since a dog’s about to get teeth near me I figured...”