Elowyn was too overcome by relief that she completely overlooked the razor-sharp suspicion in his voice. Instead, she flashed a soft, non-threatening smile.
"I am so relieved that you are awake! You’ve been out cold for days now. H-how does your body feel?"
Silence.
The handsome stranger offered no response, nor did his expression soften by a fraction. Instead, his eyes trailed downward, conducting a silent, clinical inspection of her patched clothes, her small frame, and her calloused hands. Satisfied she possessed no weapon, his eyes flicked back up to her eyes.
Under his unblinking stare, a dark flush crept up Elowyn’s neck. Suddenly hyper-aware of how absurd she must look, her self-preservation instincts transformed into pure, clumsy embarrassment. She fidgeted awkwardly, hastily tucking a stubborn strand of dark-brown hair behind her ear. She brushed non-existent ash off her knees and frantically readjusted her posture, wiggling from one knee to the other.She even sat up straight, smoothing her back and folding her hands demurely in her lap, looking like a scolded child trying to impress her strict master.
It was ridiculous.
He hadn’t even said anything, yet his silent glare and icy posture made her feel ridiculously small and intensely judged.
Sensing the atmosphere growing suffocatingly heavy, she rushed to speak before his silent paranoia calcified his hostility.
"I... I found you out in the blizzard," she stammered, gesturing toward the snow-draped entrance. "You were buried alive under the snow beneath a strange-looking tree. I dragged you on a wooden travois until a fox healer found us. This is his shelter! He’s also the one who stitched your wounds and wrapped you in clean linen. He just stepped out for a moment, but he’ll be back soon!"
When her rushed explanation ended, the stranger slowly averted his gaze. The razor-sharp hostility in his eyes melted into a profound, hollow void. He stared blindly into the shadows of the camp, looking less like a threat now and more like a man trapped in an endless, suffocating fog miles away from reality.
His eerie silence made a knot of anxiety twist in Elowyn’s stomach.
"What is your name?" she asked gently.
"My name..." he rasped, his forehead creasing into deep lines of strain only for a wince to escape through his teeth. He brought his hands to his temples, whilst his silver locks spilled around his face like a veil, hiding the rising panic in his eyes as he grasped at non-existent memories.
His name...
What was his name...?
"Are... are you in pain?"
"Here... drink this."
She hesitated, briefly tempted to bring the lip of the bowl to his mouth, but realizing his guarded nature might reject being treated like an invalid, she extended it toward his long, pale fingers.
"It will ease the fever and help you feel better," she promised, her eyes earnest and clear.
The stranger stared down at the dark tonic for an agonizing beat, testing her truthfulness. Finding no evidence of deceit, his cool fingers brushed against hers as he accepted the clay bowl. He lifted it to his lips and swallowed the bitter brew without flinching.
Setting the empty bowl aside, his throat bobbed as he swallowed the last bit of the bitter brew.
Elowyn gathered the bowl and turned to place it with the water buckets to wash for later, but a harsh, wet cough echoed behind her.
She whipped around, her heart jumping in her throat as his coughing rapidly worsened, shaking his entire chest.
Oh no.
"Take it easy!"
Dropping to her knees beside him, she extended a trembling hand to pat his back, praying that the light touch would ease his strained lungs. But before her hand could deliver another pat, he suddenly buckled. He pitched forward with a strangled gasp, retching violently onto the floor as he coughed up a thick, terrifying spray of dark red blood.
Elowyn froze, the blood draining from her face. "N-no... please, no!"
His body went completely limp, collapsing sideways onto the fur pallet. His eyes slipped shut, his breathing shallow and faint.
"Oh gods! What did I do?!" Elowyn shrieked. She reached out, but her fingers trembled so wildly she drew them back, terrified that touching him might break whatever little life he had left. Hot tears blurred her vision as clawing horror squeezed her lungs.
Was he dead?
Had her foolishness killed him? This story is hosted at g.com.
But she had made the medicine just right!
Hadn’t she?!
Did she misidentify a poisonous root?
Did she ruin the brew?!
"What happened here?"
The familiar voice behind her made Elowyn turn around to see the healer stepping past the entrance, fresh snow clinging to his fine shoulders. Without missing a beat, he glided to the stranger’s side while Elowyn hastily shifted back to give him room.
"I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to–!" Elowyn sobbed, her voice trembling with raw panic as she kept her distance. "He woke up while you were out and he looked so weak, so I gave him the tonic,but then he started coughing so badly, he coughed up all that blood and collapsed! Oh gods! I think I might’ve poisoned him!"
The healer sank to his knees without a hint of panic, unbothered by her frantic confession. His amber eyes flicked down to the thick pool of blood on the floor, noting its color and density. He pressed two slender fingers to the pulse point at the man’s throat, feeling for the slow, heavy thrum of his heartbeat.
He let out a quiet, unreadable hum.
"Wait outside for a moment," he instructed softly.
Elowyn nodded dumbly and stepped out of the shelter. Even though the healer maintained a calm composure, the subtle serious lines between his brows told her he was equally concerned, and that realization sent her fears skyrocketing.
She paced back and forth through the biting cold, her hands trembling so hard she had to tuck them into her sleeves. She knew she would never be able to forgive herself if she had worsened his condition—or worse, killed him. She had only been trying to help.
Closing her eyes against the icy wind, she whispered a silent, desperate prayer to her ancestors, begging them to preserve the stranger’s lingering breath.
She lost all track of time in the freezing haze. Seconds stretched into agonized hours.
But the moment the Fox healer finally pushed aside the hide flap and stepped out of the shelter into the pale daylight, she shot upright instantly.
"H-how is he?" she rasped, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hope. "Please tell me he’s still breathing!"