Avinalora knew she wasn't old, well not as old as her aunt, Asenath, but getting more than a years' worth of scars in less than a couple of days ages you a couple of years. She felt she was five going on eight and she would hate how she would feel when she was actually eight. That would be a circle of hell in itself and she wasn't looking forward to it anytime soon.

       The silver healer padded through the jungle, looking for some herbs to replenish her stocks. She already gathered most of the herbs that were on her list. It wasn't like they were in desperate need for medicines but she didn't have anything better to do other than sit around and wait for someone to get injured.

       The argent Algerim stopped in her tracks. It seemed like she would be using these herbs very soon. Her eyesight was even worse now that she no longer had two eyes but her sense of smell was ever so sharp. And she could smell the unmistakable scent of blood in the air.

       The scarred healer was bound to her duty to her pack and as the ancestor of Horus. Her three-legged gait quickened as she followed the scent back to the source. She couldn't hear anything that indicated a battle and the scent wasn't overpoweringly strong so it didn't seem like an emergency.

       It wasn't.

       The moon-washed medic arrived to see a young Aviari trying - and failing - to climb a tree. She rolled her single eye and debated whether or not to get him to stop. He was bleeding but it was minor and it seemed like it would be a learning experience for him, hopefully.

       The monochrome Cardinal sat down, watching the boy, waiting for one of the falls to knock some sense into him.

       Avinalora realized that the boy wasn't trying to climb a tree for fun, he was trying to get something down from there. She couldn't see for shit so it was useless to look up. She thought he was trying to hunt but the yell told her otherwise. What the actual fuck? That was no way to show whatever the hell was up in the tree that it would be treated better if someone was yelling at it. The Aviari however looked non-pulsed by the outburst except for the raise of a scarred eyebrow.

       And now this bastard turned his attention to her and went from crazy to puffing his chest and trying to show off for her. She wasn't - and would never be - wooed by his display. One, because he already seemed like he was a couple marbles short of a complete collection, two, because he was too young for her to think of being attracted to him - even without that crazy display -, and three, because he wasn't her type and she was totally uninterested in the thought to courtship or anything remotely close to that. And because the winter wraith just didn't like him.

       And now she was a couple of miles south of dislike and now her blood was boiling.

       The words that came from his mouth was absolute bullshit and the scarred medic glared with him, her single green eye blazing. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under. Did he realize that she didn't give an actual and legitimate fuck? Or instead of knocking some sense into him, the falls knocked his senses out of him?

       The tiny Algerim became a silver and green blur as she lunged towards his face, her jaws intending to snap shut millimeters away from his face. She returned to a standing position and her voice was as sharp and cold as ice. Fuck you, she hissed, And I don't give an actual fuck about being attractive or what any male thinks of me, much less their 'needs', she spat the last word with venom. Her voice returned to its normal tone, though still sharp with ice I really thought the falls would knock some sense into you but it seemed like you never had any sense to begin with.

       The moon-washed medic was about to stalk away when he turned to try to climb up the tree. But then she heard another crash and then every instinct overpowered her dislike and she turned around to see the male on the ground and the unidentified blur was lower than it had been before. She heard what sounded like a bone breaking and the sound of an animal - not an Aviari - in pain.

       The monochrome medic didn't like others putting others into needless harm or danger and she stalked forwards. And what the fuck do you think you are doing to that poor creature? she snapped, standing between the fallen Aviari and the tree. She leaped forwards, attempting to cuff him. Whether or not she did, she returned to her original stance, her feathers flexing in anger. Leave. It. Alone. she snarled, her tail lashing angrily.

       Hell hath no fury like Avinalora who had lost every ounce of patience or compassion for this male.

       Avinalora wouldn't say that patience was her strong suit nor was forgiveness. She recognized that he was still on the young side but at this age, especially at an age where he was able to make such remarks and moves, that he would have more sense in him to leave things or alone and realize that actions had consequences.

       His reaction alone to the injured sloth made it clear that he didn't have an ounce of common sense that most creatures were blessed with. The argent Aviari's heart only hardened as she watched him attempt to get to the creature, his victim. The sense of remorse was only slightly soothing, it still didn't make the scarred healer move.

       I'm a Cardinal, dumbass, the moonlit healer snapped, her words sharper than ice as her green eye bore into him. And I've watched your antics getting him injured in the first place. No healer in the right mind would let you care for a companion if this is how you treat him, acting like he's a prize to be won or that you're entitled to him. Your. Actions. Have. Consequences. The Algerim glared at the male, her eyes like burning coals and her words so sharp they could cut. She bared her teeth at the male for emphasis on her words.

       Back. Off. the moon-washed medic said and she'd cuff him again if he tried to get any closer to the sloth. With a final glare towards the male, she then turned her attention to the sloth. His arm was at a bad angle and would need resetting if not a splint. She could do that with a smaller creature and carefully snatched a strong, straight stick and some vines that she could reach.

       The monochrome Cardinal carefully traced her tail along the sloth's broken bone, feeling the break and calculating how much force and direction she would need to set it. Once that was done, she issued a soft, hushed apology and a mental prayer to the ancestors before a careful, forceful paw reset the bone and earning a cry of pain from the slot. It's alright now, she whispered before she began to set the splint into place and bound it with vines. The makeshift splint would work until she returned to her clinic.

       There was more than a million nerves in an Aviari’s body and some people manage to get on every one.

       Avinalora was a stone’s throw away from actually ripping this guy’s face off. She had many pet peeves. Idiotic behavior, idiotic behavior that got others hurt, idiots in general, being questioned when the other knew nothing about what she was doing, being told what to do by someone that knew less than her, and this entire situation was hitting every one of her pet peeves.

       The argent Algerim had to hold her tongue to avoid making any response to what the male was saying and keep herself from ripping his feathers out and stabbing him in the eye and shoving them down his throat. However the furious glare in her eyes spoke volumes and if it was actually possible, he would probably catch on fire from the ire in the moonlit Aviari’s glare.

       But it was his latest string of words that got to the moon-washed medic. He obviously knew nothing about the art of healing and she turned from the sloth to glare at him even harder. You obviously know nothing about healing so quit telling me what to do, you piece of shit, the scarred female snapped. I’m stabilizing his arm so the bone heals correctly.

       The monochrome Cardinal would regret this but she didn’t have a better idea on how to go about doing this. Now, find me a flat piece of wood if you want to make yourself useful. We need to take him back to my clinic. If he followed her orders, she would make sure that the sloth was secured to the board before balanced and later secured on the male’s back. Then she would guide them to the clinic.

       Avinalora wanted to wipe the smug smile off of the male's face but decided against it, only because he seemed on the young side - she didn't want to actually attack this kid if she could avoid it - and because the reputation of her bloodline would sour if one of them attacked someone.

       The moonlit medic was surprised when the boy actually listened to what she said and scampered off without any retort. She turned her attention back to the sloth, mentally going through the inventory back at the clinic for the herbs that she would need. Obviously, she would need Comfrey for the broken bone but considered the use of painkillers with an unfamiliar animal. The real reason she had yet to administer any painkillers was because she didn't know how much a sloth could take or whether or not it would work on the creature. Jujube seemed like the best option and she knew she had a lot of those plants on hand in her clinic.

       The Aviari came back quickly enough and the monochrome medic was quick to get to her feet, her face set in the perfect image of professionalism. She was slightly surprised of his change of behavior but that wasn't particularly important. With quick, deft paws, the female began to secure the bark to the male's body with practiced movements showing she had done this before.

       But then the argent Algerim paused and looked back at the sloth. We're going to need another set of paws to get him onto the stretcher and to help get him to the clinic, the moon-washed Aviari stated.