Disclaimer: Yeah, you know the drill. We own nothing here except for a certain black Siamese and a certain tiger-striped female.
Chapter 2: Awakening
Alyzria sat in front of Jellylorum's den, every nerve tingling and alert. She wanted to pace around the entrance, but she stopped herself from doing so. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to drum her fingers. She hadn't realised how agonising it could be just to wait. Jellylorum and Coricopat had been inside the den for hours, and still no news had reached her about the condition of that morning's visitor!
Alyzria's hands where clasped together so tightly that the outline of her knuckles was clearly visible against the skin. She looked around for something she could distract herself with. The stranger's scimitars where propped up against the wall beside her. As she had done that morning, Alyzria picked up one of the two long, curved swords and carefully unsheathed it. The blood-smeared blade brought on a wave of nausea, and Alyzria clenched all her stomach muscles to stop herself from recycling her last meal. She forced herself to look at the scimitar again. Now that the air had been allowed to touch the bloody mess that was the scimitar, an overpowering, slightly fleshy smell rose from it.
The young Siamese sighed. At least she had something to do now. She took one of the many rags next to the healer den's entrance and wet it with the water that came bubbling from the nearby spring. Carefully, she ran the wet piece of cloth along the blade, and noted with astonishment that one single wipe had practically soaked the whole rag in the ghastly red liquid. Also, the rag had suffered a vicious cut. The edge of the sword was razor sharp! Quickly, Alyzria washed the cloth in the spring next to her, kept on wiping the sword, and repeated the process numerous times.
Finally, after rinsing out the scabbards, she re-sheathed the now-clean swords. Alyzria hated to think of the condition the stranger's opponent must be in now. Remembering how sharp the edge of the blades had been, she shivered. They really must have done a lot of damage.
Alyzria yawned and leaned against the wall behind her. She hadn't realised how tiring the work had been. Just before she was about to drop off into a snooze, Coricopat came out of the den, looking as tired as she felt. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his back with a loud yawn, then looked at her with an expression of mild surprise.
"You're still here?" he asked. "It's been almost five hours, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
Alyzria couldn't help feeling a little sheepish.
"How is she, anyway?"
Coricopat blinked a little, trying to stay awake.
"The tiger girl? She'll live. Jelly's still fussing around her, but I don't really think that's necessary anymore, she's done all she can at the moment. Good thing we found her so quickly - that girl was in really rough shape. I'm surprised she even made it here - she's torn various muscles, and she's been sliced clear across the shoulder blade."
He yawned again, then continued,
"No broken bones though, so that's good news."
Before Alyzria could comment, Jellylorum appeared, looking a bit worse for wear. However, she didn't look as worried as she had five hours ago, so that had to be a good sign. Still, a look of confusion clouded her usually calm features.
"What's the matter, Jelly?" Alyzria asked, still worried.
Jellylorum frowned. "I'm not sure exactly. It's just that some of her injuries can't have been only done with some sort of blade. Some patches of her fur are definitely burnt off."
Alyzria's eyes widened. That's right - she had noticed the charred patches of fur their visitor had. She scuffed her feet.
"Um... could I - could I go in and see her?"
Alyzria immediately regretted that question when she saw the surprised looks on Jellylorum and Coricopat's faces. Jelly raised her eyebrows.
"Well, she's still unconcious, but if you really want to..."
Alyzria gave her a slightly embarrassed look. "I really just wanted to return these..." she said, and vaguely waved one hand towards the two scimitars, which still were propped up against the wall.
Jelly's surprised look turned into one of understanding. She wordlessly went back into the den and indicated for Alyzria, who was already cradling the sheathed knives, to follow.
The stranger was lying on a makeshift bed of rags which had been spread on the floor to result in a sort of rectangular heap. She was looking only fractionally better now - the numerous bloody scrapes had been cleaned and disinfected, the charred bits of flesh had been rubbed in a soothing cream which Alyzria recognised by its strong mint smell, and a clean bandage had been diagonally wrapped around her torso to cover a vicious cut which ran from the right shoulder to the left hip as well as the wound over the shoulderblade Coricopat had mentioned.
Looking at her face now, Alyzria realised that Jelly's patient looked very young - only barely older than Alyzria herself. Careful to stop the scimitars from making any noise, Alyzria placed them next to the unconcious feline and turned around to creep back outside when a moan behind her startled the Siamese into turning around. The cat who had been unconcious just a moment ago had lifted her left hand to touch her obviously aching head. Alyzria walked back and crouched next to the stranger, who looked up at her through half-open amber eyes.
"Did you get the number of that truck that ran me over?" she croaked.
Alyzria blinked in confusion.
"I thought you were in a fight?"
The tiger-patterned cat grinned weakly.
"Who said that my fight wasn't with a truck?"
Alyzria pointed to the scimitars next to her as an answer. The stranger's face briefly took on a strange expression, but it faded quickly. Alyzria noticed her brief thankful smile before the injured cat's eyes closed and her suddenly regular breathing indicated that she had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
