Fang

The Lota

The walk to the lota's den was a long struggle. Connoway took it like a sport and walked slowly with me, making sure to support my weight. Blood had leaked out of my mouth from the broken ribs and onto Connoway's shoulder.

The entrance to the lota's den was crowded by overgrown plants and weeds, a thick earthy smell hanging around. Connoway removed my arm from around his shoulders and left to knock on the door, leaving me to cradle my ribs with my good arm. The door opened a few moments later.

Through the slightly opened door stood a female who looked even younger than me. At first glance to Connoway, her expression soured. A knowing look passed between Connoway and the lota before Connoway awkwardly gestured in my direction. The frown on her face deepened before she opened the door wider and gestured me in. "Come on."

Connoway made a move to help me inside before the lota pressed a hand against his chest. "You're not necessary anymore, thank you though. Send Kirch my regards." Her eyes met mine with an impatience. "Well?"

Grunting in response to her, I shuffled into her home. Inside was much tidier than the overgrown plants that loomed outside her windows. The entrance led to a grand living room, openly connecting to her medical room. The door shut heavily behind me. 

"Have a seat." 

I made my way over to her medical room and situated myself on the white table, my legs hanging limply over the edge. The lota rustled about her home, picking out herbs. 

"You the newbie rouge?" She called from somewhere in another room. 

"I'm not a rouge, I'm a wanderer. I haven't chosen a pack yet." I responded weakly. 

She hummed and came back into the grand room, her arms full of jars containing different plants. She began her work, crushing the herbs and mixing them together. "I'm assuming Kirch?"

"You guessed it. Is he infamous for sending unfortunate souls to you?"

The lota laughed in response, continuing her work. The aroma of the plants was becoming too thick to breathe in, though she didn't seem to mind. "What's your name again?"

"Stovall. You?"

"Lennet." I glanced around her room. The shelves were mostly empty, giving the room an overall stale feeling. "Are you new?"

"New to the pack? No, no. But we recently. . . Lost our other lota. And I am her replacement." Her tone hinted at something she wasn't letting on, but I could assume. 

At last Stovall turned around, leaving her concoction on the counter behind her. Her eyes wandered me, assessing the damage. She hummed again. "Alright Lennet, take a deep breath for me."

Complying, I took as deep of a breath that my ribs would allow me to. The lungs crackled and popped with the fluid that was inside them. Stovall made a sound and nodded, as if confirming something to herself. "Lay back."

Shuffling myself more onto the table, I leaned back painfully until my back met the cold, white surface. Stovall pulled out a rolling chair and sat on it, coming to my side. Without much mercy, she prodded my side, feeling for the breaks in my ribs. It took everything in me to not cry out. 

Next she picked up my broken arm, her fingers running the length to find the break.   

"Kirch really did ya in, huh?"

"Yeah I guess. It was some agenda that the Alpha gave him. Something about my worth." The pain was clogging my brain, making it hard to think. "I think I pissed him off."

"Alpha Blackford?" She laughed. "No, he's pissed off at everything. His only agenda is making the moon equally pissed off." 

My ears perked while listening to her talk. She wasn't demeaning, but it was strange to hear a lota speak of an alpha in such a way.