Let Down Your Guard (L.D.Y.G.) - Chapter 3
(5000 words)

Description:
War has been a staple of existence between the canine races of Petria and Volcania since the dawn of time. Territory disputes are constant between the stubborn ground-dwelling Petrians of the valley and winged Volcani of the cliffs. A border guard on the outskirts of Petria's soil apprehends a Volcani scout in the woodlands and is forced to restrain her in his abode. Despite his stoic and stubborn demeanor, the young winged female entrances him, and fills a deep lonely void that plagued his life. The Volcani scout, though flightless from a injury she sustained from their bout in the woodlands, finds solace and comfort in her captor. The two of them must navigate their race's prejudice towards one another, the growing relationship they have, and the juxtaposition love causes to the loyalty of their respective nations. A fantasy from its exterior and a romance at its core, Let Down Your Guard is a journey of young love, prejudice, and war.

☆☆☆

Dawn filled the empty house upon the hill. Dust danced in the radiant sunlight that shined through the frost kissed windows. Zale trotted his way down the steps into the main foyer and the cloud of particles scattered in all directions. Morning tunes of the songbirds outside permeated the thin windows of the house. Beyond the music, there was the faint sound of the farm cart making its way into town.

Zale made a hastened path to the spiral staircase that lead to the basement. Birch steps held his weight but protested in squeaking murmurs as he made his descent. The half-awake wolf guard observed the sleeping scout in her cell through the fleeting torchlight. Cold pierced through the warmth his coat was still carrying from his bed.

Cirrus had laid out the blanket on the frigid floor to form a makeshift bed. The Volcani scout had shrunken down from the broken mess she was in the evening prior into a tightly wound ball of feathers and coat fluff. Her tail and body wrapped around each other and her wing shielded her face.

“Hmm.”

The sight was familiar to the wolf guard. He had seen Volcani in a position like this before, back when his unit cautiously evaded an encampment across the border. Lumps of fur and feathers surrounded a campfire and twitched with each of their movements through the brush. Zale recognized Cirrus was distinctly smaller than the male soldiers he had seen. Unlike them, she seemed peaceful and harmless, sleeping on her soft blanket.

Any doubt or worry that Cirrus had made an escape left Zale’s mind. He glanced at her broken wing and realized she had been successful in folding it up and bandaging it. The wolf pondered what amount of willpower and pain the scout had to surmount to be capable of this feat.

His mind moved to his routine and duties. Zale quietly made his way back up the spiraling staircase.

***

The sun had arched the sky, transitioned the morning, and brought Everwood to life. Shadows still made themselves known and carried with them pockets of bitter night air. Zale was making his way into the village when a ball rolled across the cobble street and into his path.

The toy was made of dried animal hides wrapped in a crooked spherical shape. The wolf bent downwards to pick it up and it occupied little to no space in the front of his muzzle. Soon the ball’s owner appeared, looking for his plaything. A small critter, a few years old, stood below the wolf. The child didn’t seem intimidated by the difference in size and was patiently waiting in Zale’s overbearing shadow.

When the pup tilted his head to the side, his ear flopped over. The toddler stared at the large adult, mouth agape with curiosity. His short muzzle protruded from his white face, and his eyes were much too big for his head.

“Here, catch,” Zale said. He brought his muzzle down, then up, giving a light toss of the ball in the air.

The toddler opened his mouth fully, observed, and caught the small ball upon its descent. It took the entire width of his gape to hold on. The pup did a jovial dance between his paws and his eyes lit up with excitement upon his achievement.

Something warm rose into Zale’s being. The excitement radiated at him and it made a smile raise his cheeks high. “Wow! Good job, little guy!”

Two adults that stood close by picked their heads up from their biddings at one of the marketplace stalls. The male and female reflected the little pup in their coats. The father raised an eyebrow at the large wolf and called his son’s name to lure the child away. His ears went stiff and the pup quickly turned tail to run to his father. “Not on duty today?” the father muttered.

“No. Not this morning.”

“Hmm.” And the father took his wife and son to another stall.

Zale stood and sighed. He looked to see if the little pup would glance back at him, but something more fascinating had caught the child’s fleeting attention. The wolf’s grimace returned to his darkened muzzle and he walked in the opposite direction with his head downwards.

Walking from one side of the marketplace to the other was like parting the sea. The commoners watched Zale’s approach and corrected their path so that they wouldn’t intersect him. The marketplace bustled with life. Townsfolk exchanged goods and said their good mornings. They held pleasant conversations with the stall owners and browsed the day’s offerings. Couples laughed, friends quipped, and Zale browsed vegetables alone with a stone face.

The wolf guard, bare of his armor, filled his saddle sacks with a collage of different offerings. His interactions with the vendors were composed of small smiles, nods, and the occasional “Thank you.” He was offered a discount by some for his service, but insisted on paying full price and leaving an extra gold piece.

Zale parted ways with the marketplace when the sun settled a third in the sky.

At the town’s center was a massive Petrian that stood 10 times in size to the wolf. The giant stood in a perpetual state of confidence. Its armored chest was broad and its helmeted head pointed downward, looking forward eternally into the fray. A sneer of cold command carved in its face evoked a feeling of infinite courage.

It bore a figure that resembled Zale’s own feral and wild origins, with pointed ears, a dense coat, and a bulky frame. The proud warrior demanded attention, but received none from the Petrians that walked around the pedestal it stood upon.

VARON VIDETTE
FOUNDER OF EVERWOOD
HERO OF THE GREAT INVASION

The young wolf gazed upon the lifeless expression of Varon’s stone face. He searched for deeper meaning or comforting solace, but found neither.

“Good morning, Zale. You’re here early today.”

Zale glanced at the sky, then down at the slender Petrian that appeared before him. The young guard smiled with a bright optimism that clashed with his counterpart’s stoic demeanor. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Oh. This?” Zale glanced at his piercing wound. A blood soaked bandaged clung desperately to his fur to cover it. “It was an accident sharpening my blade. Nothing serious.”

“It looks like it’s festering. Want me to check that out for you at the station house?”

“It’ll be fine, Chip. I’ll wash it out with some spirits when I get home.”

Chip nodded, “I won’t hold you up then. Onto my report.”

Zale sat on his haunches and prepared for a long-winded report that he cared little about. The goings-on of Everwood were of no concern to him, nor were they welcoming to his interference. He half-listened and searched the lengthy dialogue for any sign that’d alert him.

The wolf’s mind was clouded over the Volcani in his home and pondered that instead of Chip’s ramblings about petty thefts and rowdy adolescents. “-but I’m sure that will sort itself out in due time. What of the border? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Zale hesitated before he answered, “Nothing. I’ve been steadfast with my routes, but it’s quiet. I’m sure the changing seasons have something to do with that.”

Chip smiled, “Yes. I’m glad the summer didn’t bring us much trouble. Winter seems to be our greatest ally in fending off bandits and raiders. I don’t think Volcani fancy the cold much.”

“Winter winds aren’t suitable for long flights.”

“Let’s hope winter continues her embrace, then. I’ll write to Praxis and tell them- “

“No. Hold off on that,” Zale interjected. “Let’s not jump to conclusions yet. We don’t want to be stuck fending for ourselves if something were to happen, and there’s still time before the solstice for our enemies to pull a stunt.”

“I guess there’s no harm in being cautious,” Chip shrugged. “I’ll have to report soon. It takes time for messages to travel, and Volcani aren’t the only ones held back from winter weather.”

“I understand. I’ll let you know by next week.”

Chip nodded. A feather and scroll were pulled from his bag. It took particular concentration to focus magic consistently enough to jot down notes. Zale assumed he was writing what he had just told him, but couldn’t tell for certain. The young wolf continued focusing his stare at the statue.

“You miss him?”

“Huh?”

“Varon.”

Zale sighed, “Not as much as you’d think.”

The life and trades of the Petrians around them continued while the two stood in an awkward silence. Chip’s light armor glared in the sunlight. It was gold and polished. He took notice of Zale’s gloomy demeanor and insisted on trying to correct it. “I know some hold feelings about him standing so tall in the center of town like this,” Chip continued, “but your grandfather is an inspiration. I was much too young to know him before he passed on, but I heard the stories, the feats, and dreamed of what I could do to earn myself a statue someday…”

Zale’s concentration was broken, and his brow furrowed. He looked downward at Chip and his sour mood provoked a harsh response. “Maybe if you did know him, you’d understand why the townsfolk are against him being immortalized in the middle of their square.”

“A town he founded!”

“A town he helped establish,” Zale said in aggravation, “then proceeded to terrorize. His plights cast a shadow. I still struggle to escape. Do you think the reactions to this statue or my presence in town reflect something admirable?”

“If you made more of an effort- “

“I’ve attempted and failed. Leave it be, Chip.” The wolf looked onward. “Anything else to report?”

Chip’s actions were driven by a sense of loyalty and admiration for Zale. It was something the wolf appreciated, but felt was ultimately useless. The naive guard was growing impatient with his attempts to break Zale’s gloom, and it showed upon his face as he pondered. His fellow protector had his mind concluded and stood stubbornly in the sunlight.

Though the conversation had ceased in Zale’s mind, Chip pressed forward. “Varon was a nuisance when he drank, sure. Aren’t we all? It’s entirely up to you to shine a light on whatever shadow you feel his actions cast, but you sit wallowing in it.”

A grimace smeared itself across Zale’s face as he raised himself. He was the second largest Petrian that stood in the square.

“I didn’t mean to strike a chord.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but I refuse to entertain whatever this is. Anything else to report?”

Chip sighed, “That’ll be all. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Keep me updated with any news from the border.”

The young wolf put his four paws under him and started in the opposite direction.

“Take care, Zale. Do yourself a favor and keep your chin high.” Chip passed the statue, then made his way back into the marketplace.

***

Zale found himself at the bottom of the staircase again. This time he was followed by the enticing scents of a fresh stew. Cirrus shot up and couldn’t be happier to see the dull Petrian and his depressing face. Hers lit up with excitement. The Volcani’s golden tail was wagging back and forth while she stood staring at him from behind the bars of her cell.

“It took you long enough. I’m starving!” Cirrus said, licking her chops.

“I take pride in my cooking. Like anything else, it takes time.” Zale calmly placed the bowl on the floor just outside the bars. The she-wolfs muzzle followed the steaming contents of the bowl as they made their descent. She glanced at Zale and sighed. Cirrus sat on her haunches and stared at him. “How’s your wing?” He asked her.

The Volcani’s wing had an ample amount of bandages enveloping. It was folded against her side. “Better.”

“Good. Plenty of rest and nutrients will help that fractured bone heal.” Zale sat on his own haunches and stared back at his prisoner. His face stayed neutral, but his gaze pierced Cirrus’ annoyed glances. “I’ll need some information before I feed you. Your full name, unit, designation… Let’s start there.”

Cirrus huffed hot air out of her nostrils. She rolled her head, looked down and away, stood up, and paced back and forth.

“Well?”

“You will not make me break over a bowl of stew like some kind of peasant dog. I’ll go hungry, thanks.”

The wolf guard gave Cirrus a smirk. The Volcani continuously turned in her cell and paced. Zale let the air fill with all the smell of his hard work.

Minutes passed, and eventually he broke the silence. “You only have two options.”

Cirrus stopped in place, cocking her head toward her captor.

“You won’t have enough time to wait around and stave, because if you can’t give me information, I’m going to report your presence here. The capitol will send a transport and take you. You’ll eat tack, drink swamp waters, and face punishment in Praxis’ dungeons. Maybe by the goodwill of the Spirits you’ll make it back to Volcanis, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be in the shape you’re in now or within this year.”

“The other option?”

“Nobody knows you’re here. You share with me enough information about what you’re doing scouting our lands, and I’ll let you go free,” Zale said. “I have no will to upset the peaceful balance that lies between our lands currently, but your interest in this part of the border will be noted.”

“And I get the stew?”

Zale chuckled, “Yes, and I guarantee you, it’ll go down a lot easier than tack will.”

Cirrus sighed. She sat on her haunches and seemed willing to cooperate. The she-wolf stared into Zale’s blue eyes. “There are two issues with that plan. First, we don’t get a reason of why we’re assigned where we are. We receive orders and follow them. Second, even if you release me, I have no method of crossing the Acies without my wings.”

“Let’s just start with what I asked for.”

“I told you already, my name is Cirrus. Cirrus Fortier.”

“And your unit and rank?”

Cirrus gave a smug smile. “What’s your name, big guy?”

“Let’s not get off task…”

“See, the way introductions go is that I tell you my name and then you tell me yours. I know Petrians aren’t too classy, but that’s a very basic social convention.”

“Are you forgetting your role here? This isn’t some quaint tea party.” The wolf exhaled and rolled his shoulders. “It’s Zale.”

“Zale. That’s an elegant name. I thought maybe a denser name, like Garrick, or Aldric, or- “

Zale was having his patience tested, and it showed in his face. He smacked his paw on the floor. “Quit playing games! Unit and rank?”

“I’m in the 5th ranger’s division. I’m a 3rd bar scout,” Cirrus said as her glance shot to the bowl on the floor. “Can I have my stew now?”

The wolf sighed and stood up. He used his telepathy to pick up the bowl and put it through the opening in the cell door. The Volcani used her own magic to pull at the bowl before it was completely through the opening. A rough transfer jostled the contents and spilled broth on the floor. Fortunately for the prisoner, it seemed the contents of her meal were still plenty warm. She wasted no time to take it to the back of the cell.

“You’re a scout in a ranger’s division? What exactly is the difference?”

The she-wolf was watering at the mouth. She set her bowl down and hastily replied, “All rangers are men. They wear heavier armor and carry larger blades. A ranger would have kicked your ass.”

“And their purpose is the same as a scout?”

“Screw you, Zale. I’m eating.”

Zale’s eye shot at the bowl. He pulled it away with his magic as the Volcani was just dipping down her golden head to feast on it. More broth spilled on the floor. Cirrus gave a low growl and glared at him.

“No,” she huffed. “Scouts do menial tasks like getting a lay for the land or plotting a course for a squad or unit. Rangers work solo. They can be gone for days at a time and are typically dispatched with an assignment. Steal intel, carry out an assassination… whatever needs to be done quietly. Every squad has low-ranking scouts. Rangers are officers. Can I fucking eat now?”

Zale sat on his haunches and said nothing more. The Volcani dipped her head and chest down to eat. She wet her lips with the warm broth, slurped up soft chunks of vegetable, chewed at tender meat, and let the myriad of flavors dance across her tongue. Maybe it was because of her hunger, but Cirrus felt that this was the best stew she ever had the pleasure of eating. The she-wolf’s white-tipped tail took to the air and started wagging again.

The other pushed air through his lips and relaxed his shoulders. Zale looked down at the ground and pondered about just how stubborn his prisoner was. In the end, he had gotten some information out of her, but he was eager to expand on it. His glance slowly raised to look back at Cirrus.

“This is delicious. Thank the gods…” she muttered to herself between swallows.

Zale’s gaze was fixed. He wasn’t looking at the scout's face anymore, but her rear. Cirrus’ golden tail remained high and waving slowly like a flag in the breeze.

Volcani anatomy truly wasn’t much different from the outside except the wings they carried. The sight before Zale confirmed this. The young guard was filled with frustration, anxiety, purpose, and now, something else. It climbed up from deep inside him from the well of his natural urges, despite how much he tried forcing it down, and how much shame came from indulging it. He felt a subtle tinge of arousal.

The she-wolf pulled her head up. The remains of her meal covered her muzzle. Cirrus lifted her paw and wiped her nose and mouth. “Compliments to the chef.”

Zale blushed as his eyes darted to look at the opposite stone wall. The scout looked back at him. Her tail slowly fell, but it didn’t seem like she expected anything. The guard spoke as he looked back at his captor. Her backside remained in his peripheral. “As I said, time and patience.”

“Mhmm,” Cirrus said. She turned around and sat on her haunches. “I gave you what you wanted. How am I getting home?”

“I’m not done with you yet…”

“Of course not.”

“What were you doing scouting the border wood? Is there a squad out there waiting for your return?”

Cirrus sighed, “I told you, they don’t tell us anything. I was dispatched from Volcanis by my unit. They were tight-lipped about why I came out here, but they always are. For all I know, it could’ve been for training. I haven’t been sent out in weeks.”

“So your goal was to admire the foliage?”

“No, idiot. The standard scouting stuff.” She rolled her eyes. “Get a lay of the land. Pathways, features, towns nearby, take note of any pesky Petrians that are on patrol…”

Zale pondered for a moment. There was no reason for Cirrus to be honest with him other than out of belief he may set her free, but he couldn’t verify any of her information, and the Volcani was certainly aware of that. “Hmm. I don’t know if I believe you.”

“That’s a damn shame.” Cirrus’ eyes were intense and focused on him in the dim light of her cell. “How about I tell you everything you want to hear? That’s the only truth there is, right? Some kind of juicy intel? Sorry Zale, reality can be disappointing. We’re in peacetimes and your town is mundane and useless. Trust me, I wish there was a more exciting reason for me to be here, too.”

“I’ll let you ponder your reasons. They seem too convenient,” Zale said. He stood up and made his way towards the staircase. The Volcani scoffed at him. She stood up and started pacing back and forth in frustration as the Petrian made his way back up the staircase.

***

The Petrian guard made use of what was left of his day. He had his own bowl of stew, then went straight to work preserving the leftovers. In the afternoon, he scrubbed his armor of the ware from the previous day’s battle. Zale noticed the air was brisk and chilling, heading into the evening. Eventually, he could relax and build himself a cozy fire. It brought comforting warmth to his otherwise cold and barren home.

The Volcani seemed quiet downstairs. Zale did his menial tasks, all while searching his thoughts for what to do with his capture. What he concluded was that Cirrus seemed genuine. There’d be a point where continuing to restrain his prisoner would be more strain for him than it would be for her. His thoughts were clouded all day with options. He couldn’t even be at peace sitting on his couch in his fire’s embrace. Zale was comfortable, but wouldn’t be at ease until Cirrus was dealt with.

The scout paced for a while but eventually laid down in exhaustion. She, too, pondered. The she-wolf wondered how her world would change after returning from being captured. Cirrus wasn’t entirely sure what that entailed, nor did she have any examples she could think of. Volcanis’ military was fair but strict. She took some ease knowing that her name and loyalty would aid her case.

Cirrus was grooming herself when the dark frame of her captor appeared at the bottom of the staircase once again. She placed her paw on the floor and glared at him with a thousand-yard stare.

“Have you given it some thought?” Zale asked.

The she-wolf sighed. Cirrus licked a paw and rubbed the back of her ear. “I told you, Petrian, they stay tight-lipped with our orders because of this reason exactly. Even if there is a notable reason I was sent here, I doubt it’s any real threat to your humble little town.”

“I’m setting you free tomorrow.”

Cirrus paused, “Really?”

“Yes. In the early morning, you’ll take a boat across the Acies.” Zale’s face was stern and absolute, “Next time there won’t be a capture and release. Once you cross the border, warn your people that Everwood is not to be trifled with.”

It was as if 10 tons were lifted from Cirrus’ back. Her whole body relaxed, including her broken wing. She exhaled a deep breath. Finally, she was going home. “This has been the longest two moons of my lifetime.”

A small smirk worked itself on Zale’s face. “For what it’s worth, you were a worthy opponent.”

The Volcani’s demeanor seemed less hostile, the least hostile it had been since the wolf guard had captured her. “My wing…”

“What about it?”

“They’re fragile, fiscal things. Enough damage inflicted and I’d never take to the skies again. Your intervention may have saved any chance I have to fly again, and- “ Cirrus pointed her muzzle to the wound on Zale’s side, “I’d like to pay it forward.”

Zale looked to his side and recognized that it hadn’t looked any better since the morning. The bandage was turning dubious colors that pointed to infection.

“It’s festering. Gods know that I don’t wash that blade. It needs to be properly cleaned and sutured.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Can you? Something tells me if you could, it would’ve already been done.”

Zale sighed. The Volcani gave him a reassuring nod, and he turned for the staircase. Upstairs, he had some supplies he had been planning to use but neglected. He returned with a white kit in tow and transferred it to Cirrus. Supplies were neatly packed in a makeshift medical kit. Among the supplies were a sterile needle, scissors, some suture thread, and an unmarked bottle of clear spirits.

“There we go, big guy,” Cirrus said as she inspected what she had to work with.

The wolf opened the cell door and stood in front of Cirrus. The wound was just below the Volcani’s muzzle. Zale stood almost a foot taller than her. His face remained neutral and his backside landed on the floor with an annoyed thud. The wolf shifted with unease.

The Volcani reached such a state of focus, honing in her magic to thread the needle and pop the bottle of spirits, that her tongue hung out of her mouth. She glanced at Zale and noted his shifting and nerves. He pointed his face upwards as if he was uncaring, but Cirrus saw right through the act. A snicker escaped her lips. “Afraid of needles?”

“They make me somewhat uneasy, yes.”

“Ah well,” Cirrus used her telepathy to angle the bottle of spirits and tear the bloodied bandage off. Before Zale could wince or react to the adhesive ripping fur off his side, the bottle of spirits soaked his wound and caused him to jolt. “Did I mention this might hurt a little?”

“What the hell!” The large wolf huffed hot air from his nostrils, twitching at the pain from his sizzling wound. “Could you be more gentle? Give me a warning, maybe?”

“Yikes, this looks bad. It even smells infected,” Cirrus grimaced at the wound before she glanced up at Zale. “Where was my warning? You yanked at my wing and I didn’t carry on about it like you are.”

“Seriously? You- ” Zale yipped and showed his teeth as his mouth went agape.

The Volcani stabbed into the flesh with the needle followed by the thread. “Stay quiet. I need to focus.”

Cirrus chuckled to herself as she worked. The needle followed her magic from one side of the wound to the next and brought the torn flesh together. The Petrian settled himself. His mouth slowly closed. Zale groaned and twitched with protest with every piercing, enough to throw the she-wolf off. “Quit your whining. Stay still. I’m almost done.”

Zale looked down at Cirrus, who was enthralled in her work. She found some kind of childish amusement or entertainment in working on him. Though Zale’s patience was growing short with the repeated stabbings of the needle, eventually the wound was sealed shut. He was throughly impressed that this brash and impatient Volcani had such nimble ability with her telepathy. Zale raised his shoulder and inspected the job. “I’m no pro,” she said, “but I can do minor jobs like this.”

“I’m impressed, I have to- “Zale cringed in pain as Cirrus tipped the bottle and soaked the wound once more with the alcohol. “Spirits be damned! Stop that!”

Cirrus was laughing to herself. The Petrian guard was surprised she was having so much fun with this. “What a big whimpering pup you are! You hardly flinched when you were stabbed, but you’re carrying on this much over a wee needle?” Cirrus said. She was smiling, the first time since she had been brought into Zale’s abode.

The wolf grunted in aggravation, collecting up all the supplies and placing them back in the kit. While he was focusing his magic, the Volcani sneaked in the scissors and snipped the loose ends. Cirrus placed the scissors in the kit and looked to her patient. Zale wasn’t sure how to react to the scout’s sudden shift to being kind. It was jarring but comforting all the same.

She spoke to him again in a soft tone, “When we crossed paths, we were enemies. We viciously went at each other, intending to kill.” Her gaze was genuine but firm. Cirrus’ blue eyes were whole. They locked with Zale’s. He was able to let down his guard for a fleeting moment and stare back into the mysterious depths of this broken Volcani’s soul. He recognized an authenticity and connection he didn’t see often. He saw similarity in situation, position, and conduct.

The scout continued, “I don’t know if I can forgive you for breaking my wing, nor do I think it’d be right for you to forgive me for stabbing you, but I’m glad we can part ways having made peace. I certainly prefer it over battle or war.”

“Maybe you prefer peace,” Zale looked away, “but here in Petria, there’s a looming fear that your nation will start another conflict.”

“I hope not,” Cirrus said with all sincerity. “Flags, banners, nations… They’ll never understand interactions like these. You put them aside, along with petty differences, and we can help each other mend past wounds. Much better than letting things fester, in my humble opinion.”

“Mhmm.” Zale wasn’t really one to indulge in psychological musings or questioning the political truths that ruled their realm for nearly a millennium. He respected Cirrus’ attempts to ease his worries, and was starting to see her in a different light, but he tried to keep their roles in the forefront of his thoughts. “I misjudged you as a wild savage with no sense of control. You’re just spirited, with a fierce nature that certainly tested me. I thank you, Cirrus, but hope to never see you again. I mean no offense by that.”

“I know you don’t,” Cirrus said with a smile. She went to the back of her cell and laid down. “If I were you, I’d get some rest. I have a long journey tomorrow, and you have your duties.”

Zale nodded. He turned and made his way to the staircase, but did a double take. Cirrus had returned to that rounded ball form and was trying to make herself comfortable. He sighed, glancing at his wound once more, and headed upstairs with the medical supplies.