The Hope of the Last

Chapter Two: The Nightwing's Name

And now I give you chapter two. It's not very eventful but I have very large plans for our two main characters... A lot of you who are reading this may think that this is a love story. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's not. But trust me, it will be worth your time! Anyway, enjoy the show! ~Usagi

I wake to the sound of a strong heartbeat and immediately reach for my knife that sits on the table beside my bed. Then I remember the strange events of the previous night and set the blade back down. The heartbeat of the Nightwing has become much stronger during the night and I begin to have hope that he will make a swift recovery.

I sit up slowly, and slip into my soft boots. I pad across the room to the bed that hosts my patient. His face has a pained expression on it, but I can't sense any pain in any part of his body. He must be having a bad dream. I go back over to my bed and pull on the thick coat that I dropped on the floor yesterday. I take up a bucket and go outside to scoop up some snow.

I make my way back into my room and set the bucket down next to the dying fire. I add some dried brush to the embers then set a log on them as well. That should last me at least two and a half hours, I mentally calculate. I scoot the bucket of snow closer to the fire, hoping to melt it before the Nightwing wakes up. By now, I am very curious about his story and who he is, and am anxious for him to wake up.

As if the universe has heard my thoughts, I hear a soft noise behind me. I stand up from my squatting position and turn toward the other bed. I am surprised to see the Nightwing's eyes wide open and staring intently at me. I walk over to him, keeping eye contact with his startlingly dark eyes and try not to scare him. His eyes grow wider and I speak to him in soft reassuring tones; "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. You're safe now in this cave. You sought refuge here and I found you last night." He narrowed his eyes slightly and made a move to get up. He was obviously too weak to even say anything, but he still continued to struggle.

"No! Don't move or you'll disturb your arm. It's dislocated, and there's a large gash across your chest." A weak groan escapes his lips and he finally gives up on his attempts to move. I smile reassuringly and grab a cup from a corner and scoop the top layer of melted snow from the bucket. I bring it over and lift his head up, putting the cup to his pale lips. A trickle of still icy water slides

into his mouth and he swallows painfully. Wincing, he makes a movement resembling a nod of thanks.

Seeing him swallow makes me think of my own stomach, which growls accordingly. I go over into the next room and take several strips of dried meat to soften and share with my guest. His name is still a mystery, but I must be patient, so that he can tell it to me once he can speak again. I put the strips of meat on the floor next to the bucket to thaw them and once again turn my attention to my patient's wounds.

The splint on his shoulder has loosened slightly, so I tighten the straps. Then, I lift the bandages slightly off of his chest, and give out a slight gasp. The skin has almost completely healed, leaving just a slightly irritated line running along a newly-formed pale scar. His healing abilities are truly remarkable, but I can tell that he is still weak from the obvious loss of blood. I look to his face, and see his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners in amusement. I let out a soft huff and give him a look.

"Don't laugh at me! I've just never seen anyone heal as quickly as you do. Have you ever had a wound as serious as this?" I suddenly remember he is unable to speak yet. "Nod once for yes and twice for no."

One nod. "And how many days did it take you to recover at least enough to speak?!" One nod. "One day?! That's it? So I'll know your name before the next dark?" He nods once yet again. I begin to get excited. "Well now I need you to try and sit up so that I can relocate your arm." He grimaces, but nods slightly. I use the wall beside his bed to help support his back as I lift his torso from the sheets. He grunts, in a bit stronger of a voice than he did only a few minutes prior.

He moves his arm up slowly, to brace himself against while I push his other shoulder back into place. I remove the splint and set it onto the ground before firmly grasping his shoulder and arm in either hand. I make a sharp twist with my wrist like my father taught me and am rewarded with a slight pop as the bones reconfigure. A gasp leaves his lips, followed by a sigh of relief. He works his fingers back in forth, then his wrist, up to his elbow, and finally to his shoulder, slowly moving it in small circles.

I frown slightly and he gives me a small smile. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but a strange crackling moan-like noise escapes his throat. He closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to say no, not yet. I sigh, straightening up to check on the meat. It seemed warm enough to start working into something chewable, so I dip a piece in the now almost completely melted water, and begin to bend it back and forth in my hands. I repeat the process until I'm satisfied that I can give a piece to the Nightwing. I offer him the softest piece and he makes another guttural sound and nods.

He chews slowly, concentrating on the repetitive movement. I watch him eat, making sure it's soft enough for him. He glances over at me, and it's only then that I realize I had been staring intently. I frown slightly as turn my attention to my own food. Once both of us have finished, I offer him more, but he declines. He looks over at the cup I had set on my bedside table and breathily whispers "water." I raise my eyebrows, but oblige, giving him the cup to do it himself. With shaky hands, he manages to drink his fill. He hands the cup back to me and I set it down once more.

"So," I start, trying to break the awkward silence. "Do you think you're able to tell me your name yet?" He nods and mouths "I'll try." He makes a sound that I can't quite make out. He shakes his head and tries again. He repeats his previous sound and gives an exasperated sigh. "It's alright, I don't mind waiting for you to regain control," I told him, wishing nothing more than to know the last Nightwing's name.

"Tsu... Tsuki... Tsukitori," he finally manages to get out and smiles at me. I return the smile and tell him my name in turn. His smile grows and he repeats it, "Ky-ra. Kyra." Tsukitori's voice grows stronger with every syllable. "C-call me Tsu... Tsuki." I smile and nod enthusiastically.

My heartbeat rises as a new thought occurs. I have a companion once again. All the people I once knew, my friends and family, can never be replaced, but now I won't be alone. This boy can be the replacement of my pack... No, not a replacement, but a new member. I can feel my wolves' blood stir at the thought of having a pack again. Maybe now that I have one member, we can find new refugees and take them in. For the first time in a long time, while I smile back at my new-found friend, I allow the feeling of bright, burning hope to spread through my veins once more.

So, has anyone figured out Kyra and Tsuki's roles in the prophecy? If so, leave a comment. I'm probably going to add to the prophecy later in the story so that it's better. Anyway, hope your enjoying it and keep reading!