Roleplay

@AroeFoax248

The cold winds of the Southern Icefield were more bitter and harsh today than Hermes had ever remembered them being. This was not a hospitable land, it was harsh and unforgiving and more often was the cause of death for so many who ventured it ill prepared for what laid in wait.

Though for the Tundra dragon, it was home and his thick, blue fur offered him protection from the frigid winds, added warmth given to him by his Healer garbs, helping keep the cold winds from his body, his hood protecting his face.

He had journeyed from his Clan's den in search of restocking his medicinal herbs. The one's that grew in this region grew far from the cave system that was his home, closer to the frigid sea that battered against the island. When particularly violent storms would arise, large pieces of ice would be broken off the mainland and cast adrift around it, moving away with the will of the ocean's tide.

Which meant that Hermes would sometimes have to hop from ice flow to ice flow, if they were close enough, or spread his wings and take flight. He particularly was not fond of flying when the wind was, seemingly, more aggressive than the previous day, but he found that his regular gathering place had been pulled out much further by the violent waves than it had been the other day. His nostrils flared in a snort as the wind threatened to try and yank the white hood from his head, if not for his ears and horns it probably could have been yanked down quite easily, for now it kept the snow from being blown in his face.

There is no choice, he thought to himself as he spread his wings. If I wish to be able to dig up the herbs I'm gonna have to chance it.

Hermes leg muscles tensed, preparing for him to spring up when a strong gust of wind passed by, allowing him to flap his wings and spring up and forward, getting the lift he needed to fly over the cold waters to the stray ice flow.

He flew above it, glancing down at the endless white below him, the snow twisting and twirling in the wind. To anyone with an untrained eye it only appeared to be an endless blanket of white, that there possibly could be no sign of life that could ever thrive there.

But they would be mistaken, for life would thrive no matter where as long as the roots dug in deep and the thrive to remain standing against all odds burned brighter and hotter than the cold wind could freeze. Hermes was determined to not only survive and thrive, but to get his Clan to as well. Though, currently, the clan only was him and his older brother as their parents had long since gone to serve the Icewarden. Though what lessons they had passed on to him, the Tundra dragon held close to his heart.

There, only briefly uncovered by the moving snow, a flick of green in a barren landscape of white. Carefully, Hermes made his descent to the ground, though landing was made more difficult with the wind that only wished to push him up and back.

Claws dug into the snow once he was close enough to reach it. He noticed then that the snow was not as deep as the other flows, and he reasoned it must have drifted closer to the warmer waters of either Ashfall or the Plateau.

Hermes sat down, spreading his wings to shield the small area from the wind as he took his claw and carefully swept away the snow, a low hum of patience passing his lips as he revealed the arctic shrub that thrived in this environment. He smiled as he took the book from his side, it was his notebook where he wrote down both the medicinal effects of medicine, how to make it and how much he needed in a trip.

Closing the book as he made a mental check in his mind, he carefully dug up the shrub when the cold winds brought a scent across his nose that made the Tundra jerk his head up, looking around the white wasteland as he could feel his throat begin to tighten.

As a Healer, the coppery scent of blood was not unfamiliar to him, it was the fact that he did not recognize the scent that brought concern to him. Slowly, he pulled up the shrub and placed it in his satchel before standing up, sniffing the air again. Someone was hurt, and by how strong the scent was, Hermes could guess it was bad. Though he did not see anyone right away, could they have been buried in the snow because of the wind?

Hermes walked forward, thrusting his nose into any large build up of snow, the winds refusal to let up building up more and more snow drifts. The coppery scent was still strong, so whoever was injured could not have been buried long and the Tundra knew that, unless they were prepared for the harsh weather, he only had so much time to find them before they succumbed to the cold well before any injury could claim them.

Hermes walked over a snow drift, sinking in slightly and letting out a small cry of surprise as he sunk into the snow, when his eyes, cast in shadow by his hood, caught sight of not one, but a pair of dragons, battle worn and weary, among the snow.

@AceSabo
(I have subbed to the thread now, no need to ping!)

They were both wildclaws, one a stark black and white and the other a more warmer shade of brown and orange. The snow around them was stained a bright red, a trail of it haven been formed behind them along with a set of deep dents in the snow, as if the pair had been dragging their feet. There was an air of defeat to them, eyelids drooped low and posture hunched. The pair of wildclaws had been straggling through the snow, the bitter and cold winds licking at their multitude of wounds and causing them to sting.

It was only then that the cry of surprise caused them both to stiffen up and look to the source of the noise. They tensed up, their minds racing as they wondered, Is this a friend or a foe? The monochrome one was the first to call out, "Y...You! Have you come to finish the job?" The voice sounded feminine. The brown and marigold pigmented wildclaw meanwhile took a slight step back, pale eyes widening. While they had been trembling from the cold before, the trembling intensified from the fear of being found again. There was two of them, yes, but they were in no fighting shape. They both felt like another contuse would cause them to collapse.

Their previous encounter had left them worse for wear. It was obvious from how many bruises, scratch and claw marks covered their hides. Though they seemed in awful shape, the marigold and brown dragon seems to be in an even worse shape. Her wings hung limply by her side, the wings shredded through like an old and torn up banner. An arm hung limply, and one of the large, curving talons a wildclaw would have seems to be missing. On the other hand, while the wounds of the black and white wildclaw seems to bear no broken bones or wings, her left eye was shut, a claw mark running through it.

(I am subbed as well :) )

The magnitude of the injuries had surprised the Tundra, but it was the scent of fear and the comment from the softer hued one was enough to inform him they were both, still very much, in danger to far more than their injuries and the bitter elements.

Though they could not see his eyes, they softened with sympathy and the need to protect them. "I have not come to finish any job," he replied. "The scent of your injuries drew me, I am a Healer...please allow me to tend to your injuries and take you some place warm and safe." His voice was soft, raised only enough to be heard over the wind.

Hermes sat back on his haunches, extending his arms out to the side, as if to show them he was neither armed nor dressed for a fight. His cloth attire would offer little protection, though in truth with the condition these Wildclaw's were in, he would still not be in danger. He moved his claws slowly to flip open his satchel and slowly began to remove the bandages and cloth he had on him.

The pair paused, looking at each other as if contemplating on what to do. The less battered wildclaw looked rather hesitant on trusting this tundra, as she seemed to linger, waiting. Her companion looked from her to Hermes, searching for an approval before deciding to approach the healer. The brown wildclaw paced forward, though slowly, until she came to a stop in front of Hermes. Soon after, her friend followed after, hurrying to catch up in case this was a trick... Though looking upon the actions of the stranger, that didn't seem to be the case.

Legs aching from running and walking, the more beaten up wildclaw nearly collapsed as she moved to sit down. She let out an exhale, content to finally sit down after a while of exhausting her energy. The other dragon paced behind her, watching the tundra taking out the assortment of herbs. There was a slight tinge of relief in her eyes, but there was still some lingering doubt. It's been so long since she had contact with a dragon that meant no harm. She'd think herself dreaming if she wasn't very aware of the feeling of her injuries and her shortened vision.

Upon closer look of the injuries, it looked fairly recent, though it's to be expected as any longer of staggering through the ice field would mean the both of them eventually dying from blood loss. However, it seemed like these were not the only signs of harm inflicted upon the warmer hued wildclaw. While the black and white wildclaw seemed to just have the wounds, there were scars stacked below the afflicted wounds on her friend. They weren't random either, as it seemed like the injuries were methodically carved into a strange language and symbols.

He was relieved when they both approached him, and he would spare not a moment. He needed to get the injuries tended to and stabilized before he even dared to try and carry them back to the cave. To move them, especially the more severely injured one, would risk compounding any injury he may not be able to see with just a glance. The arm of one of the Wildclaw's was clearly broken, he would have to set that back where he had more supplies. For now, he reached into his satchel and removed a small, glass vial with a pale green liquid inside it.

He turned to the closest one then, he held it up so that they both could see it. "This will help to curb the pain...If you can drink it yourselves, take the vial and each drink half," normally the whole vial would numb a patient, but it seemed cruel to offer one complete relief and the other nothing, so half would have to do as he gently took his cloth and began to clean away the blood from the scales, a low and soothing hum rumbling from his throat.

As the blood was wiped away, Hermes could not help but take notice of the particular scars that covered the Wildclaws scales. They were deliberately placed, but now was not the time for questions. "I am Hermes," he said gently. "And you?"

The warmly pigmented wildclaw took the vial with her only working arm, uncorking it with her teeth. Gently, she tilted the vial up and drank half of it as instructed, feeling the pain ebb away to a less excruciating degree. She turned and offered it to her companion, who eyed the contents with skepticism, before taking it upon glancing at her friend's encouraging smile. The vial was quickly emptied and discarded.

Upon the question being asked, the more heavily injured wildclaw looked to Hermes, the answer coming out in a soft spoken tone, "My name is Calendula. My friend there is Eira. Err... Thank you Hermes, I didn't think we'd make it out alive." A soft nervous chuckle escaped Calendula, her pale eyes shifting from Hermes to the bloodstained path they've made. Visibly, she'd relax more as the seconds ticked by, the realization sinking in that they are safe for now.

At that point, Eira also relaxed. She let out a sigh and reluctantly sat down, tail and limbs tucked in as to warm herself as much as possible. She spoke, the rougher and hoarse tone a contrast to Calendula's, "I suppose I'll thank you too... What are you doing out here if you were not with them?" There was a shift of suspicion coming over her again, an invisible eyebrow raised and eyes squinting.

Hermes cleaned Calendula's wounds gently, taking the roll of bandages gently in his claws and began to wrap them around her arm to make a sling for it. Once that was situated he moved to bandage the other wounds, getting the bleeding to stop was top priority.

"Make it out alive?" Hermes repeated with a slight, quizzical expression that was emphasized by the tilt of his head.

Something...or someone...is hunting them.

Eira's question broke his thoughts then, and the Tundra looked up at the other Wildclaw before offering a small smile. "I guess that does seem suspicious, but my small Clan calls this place home," he explained as he tightened the bandages around Calendula's waist. "I was gathering medicinal herbs to restock my supplies," he said as he gently placed the blood soaked cloth to get out a clean one before turning to Eira. "Once I get you both bandaged I will carry you back to my Clan where I can tend to you better."

"...Oh, of course," Eira would reply, suddenly feeling a little foolish for her question. She looked towards the ground sheepishly. Of course others would live here, though she wondered how far they have wandered from the threat they were running from. Where were they? Now that she looked around at this place, it was clear that they are somewhere near the Frigid Floes. Either they have traveled surprisingly far, or the threat is somewhere really close to all these smaller clans. The thoughts made her shudder internally, though it was not to be unexpected, after all. Last she checked, their birth clan was stationed somewhere in the Snowsquall Tundra.

Calendula on the other hand nodded in response to Hermes, "Thank you... Uh. I suppose we owe you an explanation for this since you are going through the trouble of helping us recover. Er..." She looked to her two toned friend, as if searching for approval. She quickly received a nod before turning to Hermes. "We used to live in a clan somewhere in Snowsquall Tundra... We could have stayed but one day a patrol which also had our friend in it vanished one day and only one dragon came back from it. We were told that they all died from a beastclan attack... Which isn't unexpected, but me and Eira noticed something really weird about it."

She paused as if letting Hermes soak in the information before continuing. "You see... All of them, saved for the one who came back, were not ice dragons. Our friend was a fire dragon and everyone else from that patrol was every other element but ice. I guess we didn't notice how everyone in the clan from another element tended to disappear at a really specific time, but we were hatchlings and we just didn't care at the time. Now that we realized that though, we also realized how it's strange that they rounded up every last dragon of any other element, regardless of what element they were, and sent them along. The only thing that made us doubt it was our friend who is a wind dragon, but he was a hatchling at the time just like all the other remaining dragons of other elements who didn't get sent off... Oh dear..."

Calendula suddenly paused, as if a terrible realization came over her before she shook it off. "We investigated. We poked around where they said they sent the patrol and found no traces of anything that would say they got killed there. It might seem like a stretch, but it was a large party. There was no way that many bodies could vanish overnight! So we came to the conclusion that they faked the story. We tried poking around everyone to see if we can get anything out of it but..."

She shook her head slowly, "We weren't careful. They found out about our plan and they sent me on a patrol. I didn't think anything of it, I was a gatherer. We travelled somewhere and into a cave and they... They trapped me there. I was stuck in a prison full of other missing dragons. I don't know how long I was stuck there for, but they'd sometimes take someone out and mark them three times before they disappeared for good..." Unconsciously, she touched one of the scars inscribed into the nape of her neck.

"I don't know how Eira did it... But she came and saved me. We got out of there but they caught up to us. Still, we managed to get out against all odds somehow." She let out a sigh before turning to Hermes. "That's... Our story at least."

Hermes quietly listened, letting Calendula tell her tale. Though whatever the Tundra was expecting, it was nothing like the truth that was laid out before him. He looked up, for a moment his eyes, pale blue but not looking quite...right...stared into her face before back down at the injuries he was so carefully wrapping. He once more took notice of the carved markings in the skin, etched down deep past the scales and carved, ever so carefully. It was clear they meant something, but he did not recognize any of the symbols.

"The how and why can come later," he had so many questions to ask but priorities took their order. "I know neither of you have the strength to walk, lay across my back and let me carry you. Staying here is not wise if you are being hunted, anyone with rudimentary tracking skills will be able to follow the blood right to you both." Hermes glanced back at the red trail that sat upon the crystal white snow. It was a stark contrast, to say the least but it did promise any tracker a trail, and he could only hope the wind would send their scents in a different direction from which they were traveling.

"I can get you food and water once we are back at the den, you both must have traveled so far with such injuries...it is incredible you were still conscious!"

And Sirius would be able to help keep guard while I tend them.

Hermes knew he would get it when they got back. Sirius was a good dragon, but he was also very protective of his younger brother. To know he went out and brought back injured dragons, clearly on the run from something, well that would be a discussion Hermes would deal with when the time came. His priority was getting these two somewhere warm and safe, as they had no thick fur or attire to keep the chill from them, and the bandages were only a temporary solution, as his balms and salves were at his work bench back home, and already he knew he would need to sew some of those wounds.

"We will be safer once night falls," he explained gently. "No one travels this wasteland at night, the wind blows far colder and it's easy to get turned around and lost in the dark." Perhaps those words would draw a small comfort for them. He removed his cloak then, wrapping it around Calendula, pulling the hood above her head before removing his white, silken shirt. He carefully placed it over Eira, minding her injuries. "My fur will keep me warm," he assured them gently. "Wear these until we are back in the cave, I insist." Hermes voice brokered no room for argument from either of them.

The both of them rose with a nod, accepting the clothing granted to them by the tundra. Eira easily shrugged on the shirt, being that both of her claws were functioning. Eira found herself thankful for the fact that her bleeding eye was bandaged, otherwise the shirt would be stained and she'll have to go through washing it out on top of finding some way to repay this tundra for the trouble. Calendula on the other hand struggled more with the cloak, so the dual toned wildclaw ended up helping her put the cloak on.

There was a light utterance of "thank you" before Calendula moved to Hermes' side. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering how she'll climb on without accidentally scratching their savior. She looked to Eira for help and so her companion moved over and boosted the dragon on. With Calendula laid onto Hermes' back, it is more apparent that she is lighter than what would be normal as evident by the ribs pressing against his back. Eira meanwhile, seemed to have staggered a bit, the fatigue more so taking a toll on her.

For a moment, she paused, wondering if she should carry herself instead of letting the tundra carry the two of them. There was no argument that Calendula needed the help, seeing how injured and underfed she was when she found her in the empty cell. However, her legs ached so much and she felt like collapsing. In the end, Eira went to Hermes' side and climbed on, hoping that their weights aren't too much of a bother. Before they could set off, Eira muttered, "If we are too heavy, I'm fine with walking the rest of the way."