The Wolf, the Butterfly, and the Kraken

Chapter 34

Hello readers! It is the first turn the heater on morning here. I love Fall! It gives me more excuses to drink copious amounts of coffee and make some of my favorite soups. I'm trying to crank out the chapters, but there is a thing called National Novel Writers Month coming up, and I have a couple of story ideas rattling around in my caffiene riddled brain, and my bestie and I did NaNoWriMo last year together, and it was kinda fun. So, if November hits, and there aren't many chapters that will be why. Just curious what do you guys think of Finton? It's a place that's going to become integral to the story for a bit.
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Vam

I let her sleep. I wanted to sleep too, but someone had to clean up the mess. I had no idea what to do with the festering arm. Should I burn it, bury it, or maybe toss it in the river? Surely he wouldn’t want to keep it. It smelled foul.

Of course, much of Finton smelled foul. There was sickness everywhere. It was cramped, unclean quarters causing it. Finton could not possibly have held 100 Venerans on a normal day, but now it held 300 warriors.

I had spoken with the council, or most of them. One of the five was missing. I found out after a bit that he was Garbaj of the Black Mountain clan, and had last been seen entering the inn with my mate. I didn’t dare tell Joann she was removing the arm of one of the most respected warriors in Finton.

Nor would it be wise to tell her of our clans feuding, which had only simmered over the generations, never truly ending after the clan wars. She didn’t need the worry of that added to worrying about healing him. I knew she had never before performed this kind of surgery, and was truly worried she would fail this warrior. She didn’t care what clan, nation, or position he held. She only cared that he needed help and was willing to accept her aid.

I shook myself, and wrapped the arm in cloths. I took it to the river. I prayed that Mother Moon would accept this piece of Garbaj of the Black Mountain clan, and return it to his soul when he passed. Then I threw it far out into the waters.

“What are you doing?” a warrior asked.

“Disposing of rotten flesh from a surgery.”

The warrior appraised me, “Will he live?”

“She is doing all in her power to save him,” I answered honestly. I could not say if he would live or die. Not really.

“You know if a warrior of the Black Mountain clan dies under your clans blade it could rekindle problems.”

I sighed. “I am aware of this.”

He twitched an ear, “Is she?”

“No. She has not had time to learn all of our history. And now is not the time to tell her. She’s already doing her best, and doesn’t need anymore stress.”

The warrior eyed clouds on the horizon, probably missing his tent. “Will we truly have supplies soon?”

“Captain Harris is well respected, and a man of his word. He is gathering all that he can. He is limited by time, but I have no doubt that he will do his best.” I knew him, had worked alongside him.

The warrior watched me leave. I cleaned up the washroom of all blood, and changed his dressings. Then I lay down beside Joann for a few fitful hours of sleep.

When I woke Joann was working on Garbaj again. She was carefully spooning a broth into him.

“Have you eaten yet?” I asked her.

“No. I’ll eat once he’s been seen to.” She was almost annoyed by my question, very focused on her work.

I rumbled, and kissed her head, “I have work to do with the council here. I may need your help later. It’s to do with writing.”