Time to Breathe

[Tenzin]

She wasn't out for long; that was good. And she didn't seem disorientated or confused; that was also good. But tears wet her cheeks, tracking through the dirt and wetting her hair. Tenzin might have wiped them clean, but she wasn't sure the gesture would be appreciated. Instead she shifted to help prop Jacinda up, only meaning to help her sit, but the woman pushed up to stand. She was quieter. Subdued. Tenzin's brows daggered low over her eyes. Something was very wrong; something that made her hackles rise like electric danced over her skin. If she'd known Jacinda better -- well, at all, since she was a stranger -- she would have pressed further. All this because Regus died? No, that was not it at all. This wasn't a woman who crumbled easily. At least she didn't think so. In any case, through her wolfish eyes she saw only a pack member in distress, and since she couldn't rag the problem by the neck, she did the next best thing, treating her with the tenderness she would any cub.

The den had a wet room but no tub; built to be compact and efficient. Jacinda was still weak on her feet, and maybe she could have handled showering by herself, but Tenzin didn't pause to give her the option. Flesh was just flesh, and Tenzin was neither prudish or shy, just practical. She shucked her own boots. Helped Jacinda undress, assessing the injuries as they were revealed. Scrapes, bruises, lacerations. But the shoulder was by far the worst, at least of the outward damage -- clearly there were some internal ones too, she had trouble even moving. Still. All that blood. Her frown lingered on that wound as she switched the faucet and the water came tumbling down, quickly swirling dirty pink water down the plughole. So many abrasions. Bits of gravel embedded. She knew it must hurt, and she wasn't cruel with it, but neither reticent, unafraid of the stinging pain she must be inflicting and gentle when she could be. Sometimes things had to hurt first, before they could heal.

She thought back to her change as she scrubbed the grime from Jacinda's hair, the soap running in rivulets down her forearms. The humanity leaked out of her when the wolves piled in and she had not been herself for a long time. Back then the lamas had cared for her most basic of needs, and she had bitten and scratched and fought the whole way. They visited everyday, their kindness resolute. Steadfast and nonjudgmental in a way she hoped she emanated now. It had been such a comfort back then. Or at least looking back on it she realised it was. At the time she was nothing short of feral.

When they were done she helped Jacinda out, and wrapped her in a towel. That shoulder already began dribbling blood and would need looking at next. They had been silent for a while now, and though Tenzin was naturally talkative, it had seemed unnecessary somehow to cheapen the kindness with chatter. "Sit now. I will get the medkit."