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You were wandering around the woods by your cottage, softly scavenging for mushrooms and bones to use in concoctions. The fresh air was always healing to your soul; the bird chirps soothing your mind.
As you listen to the world around you, you pick up the soft whimpering of an animal. You pique your head up, searching for the direction of the anguish. Once located, you head in said direction to aid this animal.
Coming to an area crowded with shrubbery and foliage, you gently peer at a whining wolf, seeing they’re injured.
“Aw, thou poor creature,” you coo, gently petting the wolf’s head. They lean into your touch, telling you they trust you.
“Alright, I must take thou back to mine place, dear. We mustn’t wait to mend thy wounds. Can thou get up and walk?” you ask, not wanting to put a strain on this already injured animal.
The animal seemed to nod at you, getting up from their resting spot, and began languidly limping to follow you the short distance to your cottage.
You both come to a small clearing featuring a chalet, a stream, and a wild garden. You grab a nearby pail and go to the body of water, scooping a good amount in.
“If thou could, couldest thou sit right here?” you ask, pointing to the bed of clovers and tapping the ground.
The wolf obliges, lying down.
“Good little one…” you purred, petting the wolf once more. “I need to fetch the medical supplies, okay? ‘Tis imbued with magick, so they will help thee heal faster.” You tried your best to comfort the wounded canid.
The wolf slowly blinked, and you took this as a sign to get up and fetch the utensils from your handcrafted magickal first aid kit.
Once returned, you scoped the animal out for specific injuries. You found their ear to be bitten and bleeding, a thorn to be stuck in their right paw, and a small gash on their left side.
“Aw, babie,” you start, “let me begin with thy paw, okay?” You open your kit and pull out a pair of tweezers while gently holding the wolf’s forepaw.
Attempting to pull the thorn out, the canine flinches at the pain. You softly pet their head and imbue them with calming magic before continuing, doing your best to soothe them.
Once you pulled the thorn out, the wolf yelped a bit, startled at the pressure change and painful sensation of air touching tender skin.
You immediately kiss the wound, causing the pain to dwindle.
“Kisses maketh everything better, especially when they stem from a faerie,” you chime, smiling softly.
The wolf looked at you with wide eyes that seemed to sparkle.
You grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in the bucket of water, proceeding to clean the wound on his paw. It wasn’t too dirty, so you were grateful for that.
After cleaning, you bandaged his paw. You made sure not to wrap it so tightly it would cut off circulation, but not so loose it could easily unravel. Just right was where you needed it.
Once done with the paw, you moved on to their ear. Blood was dried crustily along the inside of his ear and on some fur. You took your washcloth and gently patted the area, being cautious of the wound.
By the time you were finished, the wolf was much calmer. His tail was even wagging slightly.
“Thou hast been such a good boy for me, yes thou hast!” Your voice was full of praise, making him seemingly smile.
You looked around in your kit for your stitching materials to sew up the gash on his side, but found they were misplaced. You began to get up, rousing a confused noise from your patient.
“I must have left the stitching supplies inside, halt here for just one moment, will thee?” you half-asked, half-told as you made your way inside.
Coming back outside, you are startled by the form of a man sitting on the grass. You immediately become defensive.
“What be thou name, and where hast the wolf fled?” you ask, knowing that giving his name to you would give you his power, and give you some control over him.
“Oh! I AM the wolf! I’m a werewolf, actually... My name i-”
You immediately cut him off, pressing a hand over his mouth.
“Halt! I beg, do not tell me thy name, then. I be a faerie, thee know. Thou shouldest carry more caution.”
“Ah, sorry-” the werewolf said, scratching his head and giving a shy smile. “I’ve never really met a faerie before, so, sorry…”
You giggled a bit. “Thou hath no need; many a creature doth not know, which giveth us the benefit of protection and secrecy.”
You thought for a moment.
“Wait, why art thou *just now* in thy man forme?” you queried, never really having met a werewolf yourself, either.
“Oh, it’s an energy or stamina thing. I was hurt, so I was bound to my wolf form. Your treatment and care gave me enough energy to transform. I-I felt like it would be easier for you to patch up my side like this, but, uhm, tell me if it’s not, and I can be a wolf again for you…”
“This shall work delightfully. Just lie down for me, and I can mend thine abrasion.”
He nodded, lying down on the plush clovers once more.
You had easy access to his injury due to the lack of garments. You just wanted to make sure the stitching could withstand the transformation process.
You began with some numbing magic. Then took your magick thread (horses’ hair) and needle (a carved bone), and began working. As well as being a good thread, horse hair has spiritual protective properties, which makes it an even better candidate for suturing wounds.
The werewolf hissed at the pain slightly as the numbing magic wore off, but luckily, the stitching was a speedy process.
You two worked out the kinks of the stitching by transforming back and forth to make sure the hold was good in both forms.
Once finished, the werewolf cleared his throat. You looked up at him, willing to listen.
“Uhm, th-thank you for fixing me up,” he began, stuttering a bit. “Should I leave now or…”
You smiled, shaking your head. “I cannot have mine patient possibly getting this wound infected, now can I? I also enjoy thy company; thou seemeth like a gentle fellow.”
“Ah- shucks…” he stammered, a blush crawling onto his cheeks. “Uhm, you seem very sweet yourself…” His eyes darted between the ground, your face, and behind you.
The sun was beginning to set now, causing you to head inside. Your guest stalled behind you until you specifically gestured to him you wanted him to follow. Once he realized this, he put a pep in his step and entered the cottage.
You made some tea for the two of you to enjoy and chat over. Sitting gently on the couch, the two of you had a pleasant conversation. Laughing, joking, and maybe a flirt here and there.
Once finished, you asked your guest if they would like to leave for a moment to hunt down a meal. He nodded and left for a short while, claiming his prey.
While he was gone, you set up your bed for him. Fluffing up the moss pillows and clover comforter, decrumbing the cotton mattress, and grabbing extra bedding in case your guest got cold or uncomfortable.
The werewolf came back about a half hour later, wiping some blood off his face.
“Haveth a pleasant meal?” you asked, grabbing a washcloth to clean his lips and cheek.
“Yeah. Deer.” His words were staccato, showing you he was tense.
“Hey, hey…” you soothed, “...want to lie thy body down for a moment? Thou seemeth high-strung.”
He gave a quiet nod. There was a loveseat in your room, and the werewolf moved towards it.
“Ah, no, not there. I set mine bed up for thee tonight. Thou need a comfortable place to slumber and heal those wounds.”
“Oh, sorry!” He smiled sheepishly. “Thank you so much for that, faerie.”
“Do not mention it, wolfie.” You took a long pause. “Mh, by the way, dost thou want garments?” you then asked, the thought spacing your mind.
“Uhm, I don’t really mind either way. Whatever makes you more comfortable.”
“Well, I’m asking you because I want *you* to be comfortable.”
“I… uhm… ah…” The werewolf seemed to be paralyzed by decision.
You set out a large set of clothes on the edge of the bed.
“They be there if thee desire them, alright?” A light smile drew across your face, before a yawn quickly replaced it.
You grabbed a clover-woven blanket for yourself and lay down on the loveseat. You cast some magic to blow out your candles, then began drifting to sleep.
A few minutes went by, and you heard the rustling of your guest getting in bed.
A few more minutes later, you could hear a soft, “Thank you,” from your bed. This caused you to smile, whispering back, “I never mind lending a helping hand.”
-----
The next morning, you awoke to the scent of rosemary wafting around your abode. This roused you from your slumber, causing you to get up and search for the source.
Entering your dining area, you saw teacups and a teapot set out…along with the werewolf.
“Ah-! G-good morning, faerie. I thought I’d make some tea for you- uh- for us this morning… I hope you don’t mind…”
He looks as if he is afraid of rejection. Why would he be rejected? You took him into your home and have cared for him; it would be unreasonable to now dismiss his presence.
“It’s the least I could do ‘cuz you uh… took me in and cared for me… yeah…”
You chuckled and sighed, sitting next to him.
“Thank you kindly, wolfie. I be grateful for thee offering.”
You grabbed a bit of honeycomb off the table and placed it in your drink, stirring it around. After, you placed the comb on the edge of your cup as a garnish.
A thought came to your mind suddenly.
“Hey, wouldest thou liketh to haveth tea outside? ‘Tis a delightful day,” you suggest, looking out the window.
His eyes followed yours, seeing the weather outdoors. A soft overcast.
“I don’t see why not,” your guest said with a smile.
You two gathered the tea supplies and a few food items, and headed to the babbling brook by your cottage.
The babbling brook was your favorite spot. The soft sound of flowing water combined with the birds’ chirping were just the things to set the calm atmosphere. You set the basket down on the blanket of green, admiring the softness of the clovers. The werewolf sat down as well, looking at the stream beside you both.
The two of you began chattering and joking, and flirting once more as well. You felt very happy and safe; safer with a non-faerie than you’ve felt in the past quinquagenary.
His joyous laugh echoed in your ears and across the woods, your
fun infecting the peace of nature. You smile, unable to help it. You’ve had lots of fun with him the past day or so, and were happy he was feeling good enough to laugh unlabored.
Then, a light pitter-patter of teardrops from the sky began,
drawing both of your attentions upwards. Your friend raised his hand, feeling a droplet or two on his palm. He then turned to look at you, a soft smirk on his face.
“You up for some rain tag?”
You chuckled. “Tag? In the rain? I would be much obliged!”
This could be the beginning of something sweet.