The air was humid and thick with moisture, the pine needles underpaw moistened by rain. It had been drizzling nonstop for the past few days, and when the rain finally stopped, it felt oddly uncomfortable. For some it was because of the insufferable dampness, which clung to pelts and made the slight breeze feel icy with its breath. For others it was the hindrance of the senses, the wet smells mixing together and the slight fog of moisture clouding one's vision. At any rate, the bosque seemed much more ominous after rain, with random rays of light glinting off dewdrops and reflecting so as to make it impossible to know where the light or the droplet was from. The pine needles, usually a good indicator of another's arrival, would snap and rustle when dry. Soaked in rain water as they were now, they bent out of shape but would produce not a single notice of the wolves in the vicinity.
Ciel had always liked the smell of the forest after the rain. Having never been one to pay close attention to different scents having them muddled did not bother her in the slightest. The fresh, clean feeling of everything in the ashy forest was enough to give the trees and foliage a slight glow, perhaps only due of the layer of mist which coated them. The sunlight was not at its strongest, partially obscured by a cloud and the thus made the forest slightly more chilly. The sky was not its usual blue colour- rather, it was a paler, more silvery grey tone, possibly to signify more rain in the near future. Ciel hoped it would- rain was rather pleasent, as long as it was the light and soft kind. Suddenly, a frosty howl hit her ears, and her large eyes widened in alarm before she recognised the sound. Although she had only heard the voice a few times, the cold and icy tones were easy to identify. Torvald.
Truthfully she was a bit scared of having to meet him again. She had often scolded herself for thinking the nice wolf to be scary but still couldn't shake the traces of the feeling. She recalled Thorn's words, but couldn't seem to decide whether they were comforting or increased her fear. For someone to be so frozen... having always shown her emotions meeting those who could hide all traces of theirs was terrifying. How was it possible? Had they sold their soul to the devil? Why were they so strong, able to keep everything they felt from appearing in their gestures, words, tone? She was scared of Torvald, true, but for no apparent reason. Which of course made her fear silly and unnecessary but Thorn had said that her fear of Torvald was correct... The more she thought the more confused she felt, until she decided to dismiss it all and just get to the meeting. Obviously something big and important was going to happen, and no matter what or who she feared it wouldn't stop her from going to see. Excitement and curiosity overrule common sense in all situations, and this was no different.
As she made her way through the trees to follow Torvald's voice she felt glad that she did. Being punctual would spare any trouble, and at least there would be nothing against her in the category. She longed to quickened her pace, her legs stretching forward and barely touching the ground below before pulling forward again. Yet the gash on her foreleg hurt far too much for her to do anything too extreme. Another reason why she loved the rain- she could focus on the delicate rhythm of the droplets hitting the ground. It took her mind off the pain, the splitting headache branching from the loss of blood. Her pace slowed until she was barely moving. In her excitement she had forgotten all about her forearm. Blood was slowly dripping down her pale fur, and she quickly brushed her tongue over it. Thankfully it was a clean cut, not ragged and not inflamed. Still, it hurt, and even though there was a possibility of it not leaving a scar Ciel would remember to be more careful from then on.
The thought of fighting brought her back to the present. In just a few days she would need to go find Thorn in the moor, where she would learn how to fight. When she had agreed she hadn't realised how much pain was involved in fighting. Her forearm felt like it was burning, every time she used the muscle. Would she one day get used to this pain? She highly doubted it, though eagerly wished that she would. Maybe if she became better at fighting she would automatically get more used to pain, or perhaps she wouldn't get herself hurt as much. Her limp was getting worse the longer she walked, but she needed to look presentable in front of the pack. She could be weak while she was alone, but Ciel knew she couldn't afford to look weak in front of her pack. Especially not in front of Torvald. But as her thoughts trailed on it was evident that she wasn't only worried about looking weak in front of Torvald. She didn't want Thorn to think she was frail and useless either. He had already agreed to be her mentor, and didn't seem like the type of wolf who would back out, but she had promised to make him happy and how was that supposed to happen if he had to train a wolf who couldn't even handle a small scratch? And it wasn't just Thorn and Torvald. She didn't want Fell to see her in a weakened state either. After all, they were friends, and she wanted to stay strong enough to comfort him. Her own problems could wait- she had put them off this long, of course a few more days or weeks wouldn't hurt.
The pain was starting to get worse, and her vision blurred for a few seconds. Recently her vision had been more clear than when she first recieved the wound, but she would need more herbs from Nyx and Anima, that much was obvious. Perhaps she could catch Nyx before she left and ask her for some more herbs? Although that'd be awfully selfish of her. After all, she wasn't the only one hurt and to take more herbs than her allotted amount would mean someone else got less, and then her relief would cause others pain. She frowned at her dilemma. Not knowing many herbs herself she was unsure if the medicine to treat pain was abundant or not, and if she asked Nyx would obviously be far too nice and sympathetic to bluntly tell her no, or to refuse her at all. The only solution was to not ask to being with. Deal with the pain; it won't last forever.
Still, as much as she tried to convince herself it wasn't helping. She feared that black spots were clouding her vision- which they probably weren't, she was likely just paranoid- like they had in the beginning. Perhaps she could ask Nyx what herb she used to stop pain, and then ask Anima where it was found... And then perhaps she could go look for it herself? Guiltily she thought that to be the only other option. She shouldn't hoard the medicine, and even if she looked for it herself she'd still feel bad. Surely there were others who needed it far more than she did? Maybe if she just took a little... and brought the rest back to Nyx to give other patients.... No, that wouldn't work either. No matter how many loopholes she found it was still wrong, and she would feel worse either way.
As she neared the clearing she found herself in a completely horrid state, limping with blood colouring her steps. Quickly she inspected her pelt for any burrs or twigs, and finding it to be immaculate she began cleaning her wound. The taste of blood was indescribable, but she didn't find it appealing unlike some wolves. The smell wasn't too great either. But she choked it down and as soon as her wound stopped dripping blood she straightened, putting all the required weight on her forearm she suppressed the urge grimace. Taking a deep breath, she walks in and gracefully and sits down closer to the edge, under the icy gaze of the alpha who sat above.