Profound Devotion

Chapter 4

July 18th

Monaia

  It was a slow trek back to our village; Atticus stopped multiple times when the movements were just too much for the wolf. I helped where I could, eventually wrapping his other arm around my shoulders to give him more support until we reached home.

We received many strange glances from a few pack members that were out wandering our territory, but they altogether left us alone.

  Atticus' house didn't take long to come into view. After all, it was larger than most of the other houses surrounding it and towered like a castle over the land.

  I felt relieved as we neared the familiar space, my body ready to rid itself of the extra weight I had tacked on. We squeezed through the front door, careful not to stain the walls or any other belongings within the space, and boarded him into the only guest room on the main floor.

  It had plain grey and white decor, the bed covered in fluffy white pillows that would be ruined the second he came into contact with them.

  I slipped out from under his arm, letting Atticus help lower him onto the bed. I could tell by the slight twitch of his brow that the ruined items were bothersome to him, but he would never openly admit something like that. Besides, helping this man was more important at that moment.

  "I'll go get my aid kit." I announced, leaving them alone as I ascended the stairs two-at-a-time to reach my own bedroom.

  The items that were being tossed over my shoulder smacked against the hardwood floors as I rummaged through the mess of my closet. The kit was here somewhere, but it had been so long since its last use, and I was a collector of things that I liked to toss into the abyss that was the floor behind the closet door where noone would see them.

    The red plastic case, marred with a large white cross across the front, peeked out from beneath an empty duffel bag. With frantic hands, I shoved the rest of the stuff out of the way to get to it and let out a breath of relief once my fingers wrapped around the flimsy handle.

  The man was groaning in pain by the time I'd returned, and my brother hovered at his side appearing helpless.

  "I found it!" I cheered, clearing off the surface of the end table and popping the lid of the case open. I was met with a stash of gauze, bandages, a needle and thread, weak pain medicine, and any other items I could possibly need to quickly stitch someone up in an emergency.

  After creating a makeshift space, I began cleaning his wound, wringing out the cloth in a bucket of water that was, unbelievably, once clear. Once his skin was starting to become visible and no longer coated in drying blood, I used a needle to close up the wound and applied a topical ointment to help keep it clean. At the end, I wrapped his torso with gauze and bandages and looked over my work.

  I could feel his eyes watching my every movement until I began tossing my supplies back in my case. "Better?" I asked, glancing in his direction over my shoulder.

  He gave me a grim smile and shrugged his shoulders the best he could.

  "Yeah, I suppose."

  It felt strange hearing his voice without the malicious undertone, and it almost made me forget how threatening he had been during our first encounter.

  Atticus pushed off the wall he was leaning on and rolled the stiffness from his neck. "Well, I am going to get cleaned up. You are free to stay here and rest for as long as you need."

  He nodded to both of us and slipped his stained shirt over his head before he ruined anything else in his newly-built home, slinging it over his shoulder as he disappeared out into the hallway.