The privacy of one’s healing quarters was of utmost bliss. He rarely had visitors, and therefore he was often left to the endless whirlpool of his own peculiar thoughts. He was the newest resident Healer that Erenyx had to offer to the weak and the sickly, but he considered himself as being no less experienced or wise in the field in comparison to his two female counterparts: Cliche and Aziza. Until it was more thoroughly known whether or not he was capable of holding another’s life in his paws, he didn’t expect that he’d be receiving a higher amount of patients than either of the two more well-known and respected Healers. But that was of no matter to him. It gave him the necessary amount of time to properly organize his chambers: he liked to have a designated spot for all of his herbs, and an overall sense of cleanliness - after all, there was no use in allowing the place to collect dust if he was to properly heal the sick and call this den his home.

The smell of blood met his nose far before two figures were registered in the distance. Out of curiousity at best, his greenish-blue eyes appeared amidst the blackness of his den, peering into the outside to see whether or not the source of such a tantalizing aroma was within sight. Eventually, he was able to decipher two wolves approaching, and if he was not mistaken (he didn’t often consider himself as being so), one of them was injured to the point that they were nearly beyond repair - nearly. Thankfully, they had decided to stumble upon the right Healer. With no particular desire to idle within his quarters until the duo arrived, he decided to meet them halfway. He emerged from his den, shadows falling off of his blue-black coat in submission to the sunlight, raising his head above his shoulders and taking the required amount of elongated strides to reach the duo. His intuition would have been to address the wounded wolf and see what information could be gathered, but due to the conditioning of his jaw, he confirmed that he’d be in no position to do any of the talking. Instead, his eyes traveled to the she-wolf that had accompanied him upon his journey. “It’d be most pleasant of you to share as to what has caused his substantial injuries upon our walk to my den.” His statement had not been phrased as a question, for he had every intention of getting the information that he sought. No, he did not have to know what happened, but it was always of good use to remain informed.

Keeping his ears strained for the she-wolf’s words, he allowed what remained of his focus to avert to the wolf in need of his attention. It seemed like a millennia had passed before they returned to the safety of his den, but upon arrival he immediately started preparing various herbs that he knew he would require: comfrey to aid in the healing process of his broken leg and soothe the fracture in his jaw, burdock for his various cuts and abrasions, ragwort mixed with juniper berries to tend to the muscle soreness of his bruises, thyme to help him achieve a state of restful sleep should his injuries prove bothersome later on, and lastly but not least, a small portion of lavender to calm his nerves throughout treatment and hopefully provide him with a means of coping with the pain - heaven forbid, things like this could actually hurt! He didn’t glance over his shoulders as he spoke, focused entirely on the preparing of his herbs. “Try not to speak anymore than necessary, Magnus. It’ll only worsen the fracture in your jaw. As for you, Cassiopeia -” A slight pause as he chewed the comfrey into a poultice. “Unless Magnus wishes for you to stay, then you are free to go. Thank you, ever so kindly, for ensuring his safe return to my care.”

It didn’t go unnoticed to the Healer that Cassiopeia had ignored his inquiry. He had wished for nothing more than a summary of the events that had led to Magnus’s level of injury - considering the severity of his wounds, he assumed it would make for quite the tale. However, an overall sense of pride stopped him from turning towards the creamy she-wolf and asking once again in the midst of her retreat. If she would not enlighten him, as was politely asked, then he would do nothing more than nod affirmatively in regards to Magnus’s wishes for her to retreat, a cold and empty stare following her movements as she departed before losing interest and returning to his preparing of the various remedies.

Chiara? He knew of Erenyx’s Lead Warrior from rumours and small conversations at best. Considering he was still generally new to the ranks, he had yet to be fully caught up in the pack-wide relationships. Needless to say that it was a type of information that he held in high regard. He cared not for the pleasantries and the love that those of his pack would commit themselves too, but a part of him still desired to be aware of all pack matters. It seemed as though Cassiopeia believed that Magnus would want Chiara at his side while he healed from his injuries, and that was all he needed to hear to come to the conclusion that the two were bonded in a way he cared not to shed light upon. He wasn’t entirely fond of the idea that another wolf would be taking up space in his den while he worked on Magnus’s wounds. It’d be easier if nobody was distracting him or his patient - it wasn’t like he’d be much of a conversationalist either, what with the fracture in his jaw and Cheshire’s assurance that he refrain from speaking more than was required of him. But, in complete honesty, he didn’t care whether or not Magnus continued to speak. It was his jaw at stake, not Cheshire’s, and at the end of the day it’d be his pain, too.

Finished with the first mixture he intended to use, ragwort mixed with juniper berries, the blue-black Healer carried the crushed remedy towards the injured Hunter and set it down in front of him. “Eat this.” He commanded, turning his back to to him to prepare the next remedy: comfrey. It’d be the most painful for Magnus to endure, so he planned to complete the worst of it while Cassiopeia - and Chiara - weren’t around. “It’s ragwort and juniper berries crushed together. It’ll tend to your various bruises and reduce muscle soreness.” Assuming Magnus would want to know what was being put into his body, he offered a brief explanation about the remedy over his shoulders.

The Healer had been busied with the chewing of burdock leaves, preparing the fine poultice so that he may brush it along the various cuts and abrasions littering the Hunter’s body. Despite his immense focus, he wasn’t so unaware of the happenings within his den as to miss the rash entering of an unfamiliar female. Upon hearing her speech, he was able to put two-and-two together and assume that she went by the name Chiara - Magnus’s beloved, of course. He listened to her address the wounded male with minimal interest, slowly arching his head over his muscular shoulders and offering to her a blank, unamused stare when she called for his attention. It was one thing to enter his den in such haste, disrupting his efforts to heal the male by drowning him in her worrisome words. It was an entirely different thing to disrespect his work and the space under his roof by threatening to place the blame upon him, should his remedies fail to save Magnus’s life. Blaming him, as Chiara said she would, was childish and did absolutely nothing to earn his respect. She was a Lead in her ranking, yes, but a Healer at work was not someone to speak to so lowly. If she did not mind her tongue while he was doing everything in his power to save Magnus’s life, than it’d be most unpleasant should he accidentally slip a poisonous substance into his remedy.

Then she’d truly have somewhere to place her petty blame.

The Healer’s dangerous thoughts were confined to his mentality alone, offering no acknowledgement to the dark she-wolf - he didn’t even bother to meet her eyes as he approached Magnus’s shrunken form and applied the burdock leaf poultice to various wounds along his back. If he was alone with the she-wolf, than he very well would have had a variety of insults to throw back to her in response for her rudeness. But he was too busy to waste his time. It was nothing but a mere thought in the back of his head, reminding him that she was undeserving of his precious minutes for future reference. It would be useless to speak his mind so openly, as he often preferred to do, knowing that it would do nothing but cause outrage in the two wolves accommodating his den. They were in love - she was allowed to worry, and to fret. She would simply need to learn to keep Cheshire out of it; making an enemy out of a Healer was not wise, or rather, an enemy out of him.

It was too easy to accidentally screw up and destroy lives. A shame if she said too many wrong things and made Magnus have to pay for it.

[A lovely glimpse at Cheshire’s darker side. xDDD]

He listened blindly to their helpless words. How pitiful it was to fall in love when Erenyx had been chosen as your ultimate allegiance. Alpha Steele had a side to him far . . . darker than was originally anticipated. There was a blossoming glisten buried deep within the handsome greenish-blue of the Healer’s conniving eyes, fixed downward upon the injured body of his current subject as to go completely unnoticed. He would have shivered out of pure admiration for the choices his Alpha made when it came to love, had it not been required of him to be still and focused as he worked on Magnus’s wounds. Never before had he served a pack that functioned with such awful methods as those imposed by their monarchy. It was beautiful! It was absolutely wonderful! He couldn’t help but derive an immense joy from the pair’s suffering.

He had just finished applying the burdock poultice to the most obnoxious injuries throughout the Hunter’s body, and now he sat back in one of the darkest corners of his den as he organized the remaining comfrey for his broken leg, alongside portions of lavender and thyme. He was finished with the next remedy, but he remained in his place and attempted to busy himself, caring not to disturb their lovely moment and dismiss Chiara in the midst of such heart-breaking news being shared between one another. He would wait for however long it required the two of them to finish their conversation - his ears very well could have bled at having to sit through such an affectionate exchange. He preferred that such not take place underneath his roof, but he wouldn’t deny his patient the comfort of his mate’s company just yet.