-Thorin pov-
I feel her soft fur against my chest, it eases the pain coursing in my lungs. Her claws must have a natural venom too, it will take a while for these wounds to heal. I suppose it is fair for the arrow I shot. I inhale deeply as I start to stir from a peaceful sleep, Caillat's scent filling me. Freshly fallen snow with a heavy overtone of spring rain, it is so comforting.
I flick my eyes open, instantly realizing I am hugging Caillat, her back pressed into my chest. Both of us laying sideways in the bed. Her breathing is steady and her heart beat calm, she is definitely sleeping.
I honestly wasn't sure what was gonna happen when she regained awareness. It was like her body kicked into pure survival mode, feral and reactive. I understand what my father ment when pushed she could be highly dangerous.
Caillat definitely has strength but it is evident that she lacks proper training. Unless she shifts forms, training her will be unlikely. I still have so much to learn and Faerin will start her education next spring. I wonder if Caillat will partake in lessons like those too. I wonder if Father be mad if I educated her..
"Thorin, you awake back there?" She speaks lowly.
"Sorry Caillat, I was lost in thought."
"I do not mind but I can scent fresh blood on you."
I lean back and glance down, sure enough the injury on my chest re-opened. Caillat slips out from bed, letting me lay flat out on my back.
"You have very sharp claws, it is gonna take a bit for these slashes to close." I chuckle lightly as I trace over the bleeding marks.
"I am sorry I lost control." Caillat is sitting and watching me closely, an air of conflict looms over her.
"I am sorry I shot you with an laced arrow." I smile slightly, hoping to ease the tension.
"We shall call it even, with my recovery ability that arrow puncture will need a day to heal. I won't be able to run well for a bit either."
"What prompted you to speak to me?" I ask curiously and impulsively.
"You impressed me greatly and I have some questions I'd like to ask you." Caillat releases out a heavy sigh, as if she has made a decision.
"Ask me what you want, I'll do my best to help." I try to sit up, but it just hurts to move.
"What are you?"
I flick my gaze over to her, she is standing and watching me intently.
"Well that is very straightforward." I see why she is choosing to speak slowly.
"I can not accurately understand what I scent from you and Victor." Caillat sneezes at a memory I can see flicker breifly.
"What do you scent?" I still can't sit up, but at least I can look at her.
"Victor smells heavy of blood, overwhelming blood. Like a battlefield drenched from thousands of warriors. Though with it there is something else inviting, familiar but unknown, layered."
Hearing the way she understands my father's scent is wild, it isn't how I know his scent to be. "And of me?" I want to know how I smell to her.
"You have a mix of Victor's complete scent, a heavy earthy scent, a warrior scent then something I can't name. It smells good, something I've never scented before. It is sweet but not food nor flower."
"You have a very powerful scenting skill, you'd be an amazing tracker. I bet with more knowledge there won't be anything or anyone you can't track." I chuckle and regret it instantly, clenching my sides as a wave of pain slaps me.
"Speaking of which, did you honestly not notice me?" She questions me curiously.
"No I didn't, not once. I didn't realize you were there till I came up to see what I struck." It truly surprised me, I knew Father said she come but her approach and stealth skills are scary.
"You have a powerful shot, and you are incredibly quick with it too." Her chuckle is soft, I never expected praise from her. Caillat doesn't seem like the type to praise anyone.
"I appreciate that but clearly I still have much to learn." I glance back up to the ceiling, my stomach aching for food.
I can hear Caillat shuffling around now, and the clanking of buckets. Then just silence for a moment before her front paws are on the bed. I glance over and Caillat is holding my supply pack.
"Thanks, I'll tend to my chest then get up to start a fire. I am gonna stay out here a few days, feel free to hang around if you want. Though I won't be of much company."
"I can not leave a young one I injured unattended, let alone one of Victor's. I know how my parents were so I can imagine he would be displeased." Caillat sighs heavily plopping on the floor.
"So what are you then Caillat?"
"Do you not believe me to be a child of Fenrir?"
"Fenrir is a wolf child of Loki, brother of Thor. No Caillat I do not think you are of that lineage." I can't help but chuckle softly.
"I recently learned new things about myself, but till I understand more... I just know I am alive." Caillat seems so exhausted right now.
"In the end I feel the same way. Now then, I will tend to myself." I rummage through my pack and pull out some basic medical supplies.
All I can really do is clean and stitch the wounds close. It isn't perfect patch work but for now it will do. Sitting up, I move to the edge of the bed and hang my legs over. My body feeling heavy and sore still, groaning knowing I have to tend to my chores.
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Viking King and A Wolf
Werewolf(First Draft) Vikings, fantasy, fighting and blood. What more could a book need. A Viking finding more then what he was expecting and a warrior finds footing. A random idea taking root, leading the way into the unknown. Bare with me as I have no clu...