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The wind is chilling as the unforgiving cold stings your skin, however, all it causes for you is a numb uncomfortableness that you can simply ignore. The branches that are void of leaves swing prettily all around you as you look down at the unmoving creature in front of you.
A baby squirrel. Wounded with deep claw marks, not yet dead - but not much alive either. It's still struggling. You can see the way its eyes widen, and shine, and panic - it wants to live.
( Did you look this desperate too, once a lifetime ago? )
You don't like the way it struggles. It's bothering to see its will to live; that begging dark eyes almost screaming – 'save me! Save me please I can't die here I'm so young, a baby, I can't die please please please -'
It's a baby. ( A baby that's going to die if you don't do anything soon. )
You crouch down near it without much thinking, and it blinks up at you dumbly. A sneer is forming on your lips, so annoying that you have to do this, but - you hold it tenderly with the palm of your hands.
You don't know if this is going to work, fuck, there is so much blood - however, you have to try. A chance that was given you, you'd be damned to not do the same to others. Even if it's a squirrel and you only did this type of - healing? with plants, not much like a mammal-like, you were about to attempt right now.
You've learned that magic came surprisingly easy to you whenever you wanted to do something. To will it was enough in some cases, with your intent crystal clear and vibrations around you so compliant.
It's truly something exciting if only this type of something wouldn't lead to your doom in the near future.
The squirrel's warm blood coats your fingers as you press down harder; the life bristling underneath your fingertips and you can feel the claw wounds sewing themselves back together while you concentrate harder.
"You're healed. Get off, now." You say as your work is finished, glancing at the squirrel who has no plans of leaving the comfortable place it has in your palms.
You can't help the way your lips tugs upwards as the squirrel chirps droopily, and you decide you can just let it be as it snuggles father into the warmth of your hands. A fond look crosses over your eyes at the action.
"So bothersome..."
( You are no hero, but it's nice, you think; saving someone from their fate so inevitable.
