The pack doctor arrived. He was an elderly, calm, and respected member of the pack. He has served the House of Vaeroth for years.
He walked into the room with the unhurried grace of a man who had long ago ceased to be impressed by urgency. His fingers were gnarled and spotted with age. Behind him, two young Iotas in pale grey tunics carried wooden cases that smelled of medicine and dried herbs.
They all bowed when their eyes met Vael's.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice, Lionel." He said.
And they straightened again.
Lionel's eyes fell on Vessara as he took her in. Vessara lay on the bed, her chestnut hair spread across the pillow.
He did not rush to her side. He stood at the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind his back, and observed. The rise and fall of her chest. The sheen of moisture at her temples. The way her fingers curled into the bedsheet as though bracing for impact.
