Queen of Wolves (ON HOLD)

VII

vii

After our kiss, Kenna asks me to leave the tent while she gets dressed. I feel like a flustered mess, with butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. I sit down on the bench again, tapping my foot on the grass quickly. I jump when Kenna exits the tent. She had a shorter, loose dress draped over herself

"Goddess," she giggles, and I roll my eyes. "You're as skittish as a pup!" She stretches her arm out, offering her hand for me to take. I gleefully take it, enjoying another short moment of her touch. She hoists me up, and we both realize what a bad idea it was when he groans in pain. She lets go of me just as I get to my feet, luckily, and immediately brings her hand back down to her wound. She winces and squeezes her eyes shut, turning away from me.

"Alright. first things first," I instruct, placing one hand on her shoulder and pivot her around gently to face me. "Infirmary." She nods slowly. I snake my arm around her back and under her armpit. She leans herself onto me. Taking small steps, we both waddle in the direction of what I can only assume is the doctor. Kenna leads, limping a little.

"You know," I start to joke, adjusting my grip around her waist, "It's kind of funny to believe that no more than five minutes ago, we were making out." Even though I'm not looking at her, I can still feel her rolling her eyes. She uses whatever strength she has left to nudge me lightly. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." I take the opportunity to press my lips against her forehead. Tasting something salty, I recoil, nearly dropping Kenna in the process.

"What?" she asks, looking up at me with concern pouring into her eyes. I give a small snort at her unease.

"No, no, it's nothing," I jest, moving my free hand to wipe the putrid tang off my lips.

"Seriously, what's wrong." I laugh again.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes." I open my mouth but pause.

"Sure?"

"Goddess, Aggie! What is it?"

"You tasted like mold and mildew when I kissed you. There, happy?" I look down at her, frail and tired. Her eyes are wide, then she groans, rolls her eyes again, and drags me along. "Hey, you asked, so you shall receive." A smirk creeps onto her lips. We march on in silence for a few seconds before Kenna speaks again.

"Was it... good mildew?" I can't contain my amusement and let out a chortle at her remark.

"The best kind." I hold her tighter, giving her a gentle squeeze as we approach a large, dark grey tent.

Nodding her head in the direction of the big tent, Kenna announces, "It's this one, right here." I enter first, pushing open the heavy flaps and holding them wide open as she joins me. My eyes wander excitedly, examining every inch of the new space. Directly in front of us, there sits a lounge chair-like seat. Several stools and tables surround it and are cluttered with different equipment. It seems very unsanitary and filthy, but I suppose that it could be impressive, taking into consideration that they probably don't have access to as much material as a normal Pack. Upright at one of the stands, there is a man with his back facing Kenna and I. He tinkers with something unknown. I stand awkwardly, unsure if I should make our presence known or wait for him to finish his task. Almost as if she has read my mind, Kenna clears her throat, carefully removing herself from my grasp and instead leaning on me. Almost instantly, the man whirls around.

His face is old, tired, but still carries a youthful lightness. His skin is a dark ebony hue, much darker than mine, but nonetheless glowing. Short, dark curls are sprawled across his hairline. His miniscule thin rimmed glasses hand low on his nose as he eyes me up and down. He can't be more than in his mid-forties. He wears a long grey coat, and a loose plaid shirt that is tucked into jeans. His feet are slipped into a pair of sandals. His eyes avert from me and lock onto Kenna. A cunning smirk slinking onto his lips, he steps two huge strides towards her.

"And so, you really have returned!" he remarks, pulling her in for a hug. He holds her for a few moments before backing away. His hands hold her shoulders, his arms outstretched. "Did you find what you were looking for?" Kenna shrugs, her gaze turning to me for a split second.

"Perhaps," is her only answer. She shrugs, turning to me. "Paul, this is Agara. I found her along the way. Agara, this is Paul, our doctor." I smile politely, reaching my hand out to shake his own. He flashes a peachy grin, and I feel welcomed here.

"So, what brings you two here?" he questions, eyeing us up and down. Kenna seems ashamed of her wound and covers it by crossing her arms. I sigh, piping up.

"Kenna is... hurt," I state bluntly, my stare switching between both Kenna and the doctor, Paul. "By her ribs." Paul nods, then motions with his hand for Kenna to come closer. He makes his way over to the chair at the back of the tent. We follow him there. He pats the cushioned surface, a signal for Kenna to hop on, which she does uneasily. I stretch out my hand for her, which she gladly takes, and shuffles into the middle of the seat.

"Good, good. Now roll over onto your side," he speaks while shrugging off his jacket. He then proceeds to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Adjusting his glasses, he leans in, slowly peeling her shirt up. The wound has stopped bleeding, for now, but the gash in her side looks equally as painful and nauseating as it did when it was. "Ouch. What happened here, dear?" Kenna shrugs, her eyes landing anywhere but onto mine.

"I... I fell. There was a fallen branch. I was tired and not paying attention." Both Paul and I give each other a certain look of disbelief but dismiss it. Kenna still doesn't seem to want to talk about her issues, and what happened before we met along with after our escape, but I know not to pry. At least she made the trip to the doctor like I insisted. Baby steps.

"Alright, Ken" he begins, calling her by what I assume is her given nickname. He leans back and places his hand on Kenna's shoulder. "It's deep, but not too severe. Looks like you'll be needing stitches." She sighs, adjusting her position.

"Okay, Paul, I'm ready when you are," she answered in a determined tone. I smirk at yet another display of her strength. I give her a look, raising my eyebrow slightly. She sees me, clearly, grunting, "What? I'm fine." She deters her eyes from me. I sigh at her persistence.

"And," Paul begins, pushing away from Kenna's body, "Done. That should do it." He stands, adjusting his glasses. He gaits to a small basin on a stool that I hadn't seen before. He dips his hands into it, splashing water around and scrubbing his fingertips and palms. Kenna sits up, struggling at first, but regaining her strength afterward. I extend my hand out, beckoning to support her. She shakes her head 'no', brushing me off. Wobbling a little, she gets to her feet all by herself and unthinkingly springs off the lounge. She lands roughly, nearly falling. I manage to grab her before she does. Paul turns around, alarmed. "I was going to ask you to avoid any large amount of physical activity, but it seems like that's out the window now. Agara, was it? Look after her for me, will you? You're free to go, unless you have any other concerns."

"Nope," Kenna apprises enthusiastically. She adjusts her shirt, flattening down any creases, and smiles politely to Paul. "Thanks. One more question."

"Anything you need."

"How's my Papa?" Paul shrugs, turning away from us.

"Fine, from what I've seen."

"You know, at least you're a better liar than my brothers. Take me to him, please."

"Of course."

Thanks for reading!

a/n: I've started to write my chapters in Word so that I can catch my mistakes, because I make a lot of them. I hope you enjoy this error-free (maybe?) chapter  : )