Jez Firetongue 40th of Winter 516 AV Pavi/Grassland Sign , Common, Nari ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Jez stopped after putting the last box down, standing up to stretch his arms above his head and then wipe the sweat from his brow. The Healing Hoof had been busier than usual this season, what with the tough conditions, and Jez had been needed to work more than usual over the last days. The occasional storm, crazier than he’d ever seen but becoming more normal now that they’d happened multiple times, combined with the aridity meant that both injuries and malnourishment were high in both Drykas and their livestock. “Done with those boxes, Jez?” Denhar Tenderbloom, one of the older vets asked as he noticed the animal handler had stopped. Jez had a great deal of respect for the older man, for his dedication to his spirituality. He would also listen with wonder when Denhar blessed the animals he worked with, or when they happened to take a break at the same time and the man started talking about the Gods’ teachings. Though their main worship was on different Gods, Jez learnt from Denhar’s devotion every time he worked with the man. “Yep,” he nodded, gesturing to the stack of four boxes “The supplies you needed are all here.” “Good. Next the long stay dogs need feeding and checking over,” the vet turned back to his work, confident that Jez would know what he was doing. A few of the animals brought in were too unwell to go home with their owners; malnutrition too high or injury too infected, whatever the reason they needed to be under supervision of the vets through the day. Currently they had three long stay dogs in the tent. The first was a male Silkena, a pure white, slender thing with fur that fluffed out from its tail, legs and ears. He used by his owner as a hunting dog, specialising in gazelle. However, The Run had changed this year. Endrykas was currently along the northern bank of Lari Lake, instead of taking its usual route. There were no gazelle to be found here; no wildlife bar the occasional fish and waterfowl. The Silkena had nothing to hunt and was put on hold, his owner using another of their hunting dogs, their Pastavik Water Dog, instead. The Pastavik Water Dog was being used to hunt waterfowl a few days ago when the Silkena had gotten loose, wanting to be helpful. The Silkena had jumped into the lake, following after the other dog. However, its form was not built for hunting around water and it had collided with some nets, unaware that they would be there. Its back legs had been tangled and in the struggle it had received some sever lacerations that made it unable to walk without pain. Having gotten through the first day, its whining was now less frequent and the vets seemed hopeful that it would make a full recovery. The second dog staying in was a female Kiparon, a large, fluffy, black companion dog that was bought to protect its owner’s children. She had birthed pups in the early hours of the morning, but it didn’t go well and as soon as The Healing Hoof opened for business its owner rushed it over. One of the vets had spent the morning helping with the birth and now the female was being monitored. If all went well she would be able to go home tomorrow. She had lost three of her pups to the birth, but eight were still alive. The third dog was going to be monitored for a while as it had come in malnourished. She was a Luvanor Grassland Hunter, a usually firmly standing dog able to chase down fast deer. The woman who brought her in had found her lying in a patch of dried grass during their latest move of their Pavilion’s tents. She assumed the dog had run off during a hunt and lost track of its owner. It was lucky to have been found in the seemingly endless lands, where it could easily have died out of sight or knowledge of anyone. The dog was bone thin, her coat falling off in clumps and breath wheezing. She had no owner, but a fighting spirit that meant the vets found it too hard to turn her away. The dogs were fed scraps of meat, cuts from carcasses the hunters had decided weren’t good enough to sell to people. New scraps had been brought to them this morning in a small sack. They only bought small amounts at a time, not wanting so much meat that it would go off. Jez pulled the sack up onto a spare part of the table and grabbed a knife from off to the side. He pulled out one of the scraps, a long stringy piece of flesh likely from the Drykas’ own cattle. Deciding to start with the most complex feeding, he cut up the flesh. It was tough to cut through, requiring repeated slicing pressure with the knife, but he managed to cut it into a number of smaller chunks. He threw them into a bowl and then reached over to take a handful of crushed herbs and scatter them over the meat. He didn’t know what the herbs were or why they worked, as he was just following a memorised recipe for a malnourished dog. He set the bowl aside for the Luvanor Grassland Hunter. Next he prepared the meal for the Kiparon. Denhar had told him in the morning that since she was lactating to feed her pups she would need extra calories. He had told the younger man to give her larger portions of the fattier scraps of meat. Jez opened the sack wide, pushing through the top layers of flesh until he found the fattier cuts. It wasn’t a surprise to find fatty meat in the bag, given that it was often the less preferred form for people to buy. Jez got out two large scraps, rich meat coated in fatty flesh, and dumped them into a second bowl. It was a lot more food than a single serving normally given and he almost hesitated, taking some back, but Denhar’s words ran through his mind. He knew this was what the Kiparon needed. Lastly was the food for the Silkena. The dog didn’t need a difference in meal from the usual, so Jez simply threw into a third bowl the correct amount of scraps. The three were being kept tied up at the back of the tent, out of the way but within sight of the vets. Jez carried over the bowls and all three visibly perked up, though with different energy levels. He bent down to the Silkena first. “Hey there, boy,” he greeted, putting the correct bowl in front of the dog, “How’s that leg doing, huh? I’m afraid I can’t change the bandages; it’s too deep so I’d probably open the cut accidentally. Denhar will come and see you later.” The Silkena dove into the food, eating with none of the grace of the breed’s appearance. Jez laughed, preventing himself from patting the dog on the head as he knew it got food aggressive, and moved over to the Luvanor Grassland Hunter a couple of strides away. “Hello, girl,” he cooed gently. The dog was in a sorry state, sprawled on a soft rug and having barely moved all day. He carefully ran his fingers along her cheeks, causing her to shut her eyes in pleasure and let out a pitiful whine. A small bit of fur fell from near her neck as his right hand passed it. He frowned, upset by her state. “Let’s get you some food, yeah?” He placed the correct bowl by her head and watched her nose twitching. She lifted her head enough to nudge against the bowl, but dropped it again rather than attempting to eat. “Denhar,” Jez called out, waiting for the man to lend him attention before continuing, “She’s not got a lot of energy. I don’t think she’s going to eat.” The vet considered it for a moment before deciding, “Try hand feeding her the pieces until she won’t eat any more. Leave anything that’s left over in the bowl on the table and we’ll try her again later.” Jez signed his agreement and dropped down to sit by the dog. He picked up one of the pieces, squeezing it to make sure the herbs sprinkled over it adhered to the juices, and held it near her nose. “Have a smell of this, girl,” he spoke calmly to her, “Just eat a bit and you can rest.” She seemed to consider it for a moment before slowly opening her mouth, tongue lapping a few times before drawing the small chunk into her mouth. She shewed on it slowly, but at least she was chewing. “Well done, girl,” Jez congratulated her as she swallowed. He continued to speak to her for a while, letting her slowly make her way through the food in his hands. She only ate half of the bowl, but recovery was a process with ups and downs; today she was in a down peak but tomorrow she may even be able to sit up and eat by herself. When she stopped accepting the food he nodded, stroking over her head once more before getting up. He put the bowl over to the back of the table, out of the way, before going back to the back of the tent. The final dog, the new mother Kiparon, had a small, makeshift tarp set up to shield her from the view of most of the tent. It was to prevent stress as she nursed the pups and recovered from the trauma of the birth. “Hey darling,” he called softly so as not to startle her. Trained to be a companion for children, she had a personality with pure trust of humans. She had no issue with Jez, a stranger, approaching her newborns. Instead she was happy to see a human approaching her, especially given that he had food. He placed the bowl down, grinning as she tore into the large scraps. Jez took a moment to watch the newborn pups. A couple were nursing, but most were sleeping against the warm body of their mother. The Drykas’ gaze softened at the sight. Caiyha, he thought, thank you for reminding me of the beautiful moments in nature. There are many questioning you nowadays, but they are forgetting to look at the smaller things and appreciate them. Watching the mother dog eating happily while her pups nursed peacefully reminded him of his love for his job. It may be exhausting, particularly when there was a tough season, but it was worth it. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ || Jez Firetongue || 25 years || Drykas || Amethyst Clan || Strider-Wind || |