After a day’s rest beneath the trees, Ink-Talon had proposed a change of plans. His wound hadn’t become infected, but the damage done to him was worsening over time. He needed a Physician. One he could trust. And given that there was still no sign of a proper settlement in the direction they had been traveling, the best and only option was to backtrack. Not to Darksoil, but to Deep’s End, where Physician Mindful-Sight could potentially help. The outpost was situated on the edge of the very forest they’d sheltered in, so all they’d have to do was travel back along it until they found it.

  As for the logistics of getting there, it turned out that his injury barely slowed their rate of travel at all. Ink-Talon couldn’t walk, but he could still fly, and his flight speed far outstripped his companions’ land speeds several times over, even when taking into account his difficulties with takeoffs and landings. This meant that he could fly ahead of his companions, land about a day’s walk away, and then wait. Using a single leg for landings was by far the hardest part, but his Attunement took care of the balancing act so long as he did everything he could to slow his speed before attempting to land.

  Takeoffs, while technically easier, required falling off of an elevated point, applying what he had learned in his attempts to teach the bat to fly. It was here, though, that today’s flight was getting stuck.

  “Can you stop wiggling?”

  “I’m a snake, wiggling is all I’m able to do!”

  “This boulder might as well be covered in ice for how slippery it is. If I fall, I’m not going to be able to grab on to anything. You sure you can’t take it slower?”

  Yesterday, Ink-Talon had set down near a large boulder in the forest, intending to use it as his launching point the following day. This had proved to be a problem when the omnipresent drizzle of the past few days had rendered the lichen-covered rock slick and nearly impossible for the injured crow to find purchase.

  “I don’t have traction on this surface, either, so I’m holding you and half my body up entirely with the other half. If I go any slower, I’ll—”

  “Shit!” Ink-Talon squawked in distress as the snake slipped a bit beneath his talons, sending him tumbling towards the ground.

  Extend left wing halfway. Retract then extend uninjured leg. Flare right wing entirely to half momentum. Extend left wing entirely as talons touch the ground. Relax right shoulder and adjust for balance.

  The whole fall took a little less than a second, but even that small amount of time was enough for Ink-Talon to execute a perfect barrel roll and one-legged landing, only wobbling a little bit when he touched down. It wasn’t painless, however. Even slightly jostling his leg had become excruciating, not from inflammation or an infection, but from the tissue damage caused by the snake’s venom. Another reason that they needed to get help soon.

  “Okay, I’m fine. Ready to try again?” Ink-Talon asked, utilizing his Attunement to keep himself from even wincing at the pain. Having the others worry about him would only slow the group down and make his own prospects worse.

  “God, that’s creepy,” the snake rattled, shuddering a bit as she did. “Can we stop and talk about how creepy that is?”

  “What?”

  “That thing you keep doing where you just… turn off parts of your brain.” The rattlesnake coiled up indicating that she wasn’t going to try again until she aired her grievances. “It’s like you become an emotionless robot for a few seconds, do something incredibly precise, and then go back to normal. I know that’s just how your Attunement works, and you would have eaten dirt a few dozen times in the last few days if you weren’t using it, but…” She trailed off, and Ink-Talon had no idea if she had trouble expressing the idea, or had thought better of expressing it too late.

  “But…?”

  “But you keep using it even when you don’t need to!” The volume of her rattling increased.

  “Really?” Ink-Talon tilted his head. “I do that?”

  “Yes!”

  “Such as…”

  “Literally right now!” The rattling reached a fever pitch, and she coiled even tighter. “I’m doing the snake equivalent of shouting angrily at you, accusing you of something serious, and your reaction hasn’t once deviated from calm, unbothered neutrality!”

  “Oh.” She was right. Objectively correct. He was absolutely focused on the task at hand, and making sure that he wasn’t distracted by unnecessary things was important. But this is important. I might need to step back and reassess—

  “Someone is coming!” A cry of alarm from Gray put a hold on everything for the moment. The kit scampered up to Ink-Talon as frantically pointed back the way it came. “I heard something and went to look, and it called out to me!”

  “We’re upwind from it, so I can’t smell anything, and they can possibly smell us…” The snake flicked her tongue, raising her head to peer over the grass.

  “Did it seem hostile?” Ink-Talon asked, and Gray shook its head.

  “No. More surprised?”

  “Surprised is certainly the correct emotion,” a concerned whine nearly caused Ink-Talon to fall over as he awkwardly spun himself around to face the newcomer.

  “Ink-Talon, what are you doing here?” Seeker Silver-Tail tilted its head, the fox’s confusion turning to worry when it saw the condition of his leg. “You’re injured! What happened?”

  It turns out they’d made it quite close to Deep’s End the previous day, close enough that Messenger Darting-Flight had caught a glimpse of them through the trees while returning from a delivery. Silver-Tail had been dispatched to investigate, and was more than willing to help them get back to town for treatment once it recognized them. Riding on the fox’s back was not exactly comfortable with how Ink-Talon had to rest his leg, but it meant he didn’t have to finagle a takeoff and fly separately from everyone else.

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  On the way, he explained to Silver-Tail the broad strokes of what happened, omitting the fact that he had attacked and escaped a Guardian, as well as who, exactly, the snake was.

  “There is a reason that most do not travel near the end of New Blooms, but I suppose that none of you would know about the beginning of Heavy Storms. You are lucky that a broken leg is the worst you suffered.” The Seeker stopped and turned its head, side-eyeing its passenger. “Ink-Talon, before I bring you back, I need you to tell me something. Why were you all traveling so far from the road? You would have traveled faster outside the forest, so the only reason to travel within it is to avoid detection.”

  “Because we’re fugitives,” the snake said, slithering in front of the fox.

  “Hey! Why are–” Ink-Talon squawked in protest, but his companion was having none of it.

  “Because I am not going to let you lie to people to secure their aid! We need allies we can trust, and keeping the truth from them will destroy that trust.”

  “I wasn’t lying!” The crow huffed. “But fair enough. You deserve the whole truth.”

  “Actually, I already know the truth, or at least the ‘official’ version of events,” Silver-Tail said, continuing forward with a satisfied swish of its tail. “We receive news from Darksoil regularly, so we know that you were all confined in the College, and we know what you did to escape. I am relieved to know that your motives are clearly not as monstrous as they were made out to be, but I hope you forgive my caution.”

  “So, you don’t plan on turning us in?” Ink-Talon asked, trusting that his friends would notice any duplicity on the fox’s part.

  “That is Coordinator Gleaming-Scale’s decision, but even if we wanted to, we do not have the means to detain you. You could simply leave.” Silver-Tail sighed, glancing over at the ever-cautious Gray, but it did not say any more. The fox had been close friends with Forager Keen-Ear, the kits’ original mother, so Ink-Talon couldn’t begin to imagine what it must think about the situation they were in now.

  Deep’s End itself was almost exactly as it was when they had left. Just more damp, which thankfully meant that most of the residents were sheltering in their homes when they arrived, allowing the group to get into the infirmary without being seen.

  Physician Mindful-Sight, true to form, took one look at Ink-Talon’s leg and decided that questions could come later. Right then, it had a limb to try and save.

  “Eat this.” The chameleon ordered, placing a small plate covered in some kind of reddish-brown paste in front of the crow. “It will either numb your pain or cause you to fall asleep, probably the latter given your condition.”

  “Why? The pain is… tolerable right now.”

  “It will not be when I am finished. This will not be pleasant.”

  The medicine probably would have been bitter if he could taste that flavor, but as it was palatable enough to a crow’s tongue, though the numbness that soon followed made it feel as if his feathers were literal pins and needles. As sleep slowly overtook him, he caught the Physician turning a curious eye to the snake huddled in the corner before turning back to him and tapping his beak.

  “Rest now, Ink-Talon. That is an order.”

  His body swiftly obliged, drifting off into an unnatural sleep…

  “Did you dress this wound?” Physician Mindful-Sight asked, gesturing at the splint on the passed out bird with one of its feet.

  “Yes,” The snake nodded. “It was the best we could do under the circumstances.”

  “Good, then you can help.” The chameleon moved over to what seemed to be a miniature wood-burning stove of some kind, a flat-topped brass kettle with an open front stuffed with dry kindling and charcoal. Taking a nearby set of stone strikers, it managed to spark a small flame with some difficulty, wrapping its tail around a small post set nearby so that it could balance on its hind legs. On top of the stove was a thinly carved stone basin of water with several long handled tools resting in it. It was boiling water to sterilize them.

  “How can I help? I don’t have… limbs.”

  “You can stabilize Ink-Talon’s body with your coils, and give me details about what happened and how you have treated the wound.” The Physician turned one eye to look at her and shifted colors to a dark brown, somehow communicating a deathly seriousness. “You clearly have some proficiency in medicine, and I would be a fool not to utilize everything at my disposal right now.”

  “...Right. Okay.” The rattlesnake nodded and slithered out from her corner, only remembering that Gray had been back there with her when it tugged on her tail to get her attention.

  “Do I need to help too?” The kit asked, having gotten used to being her hands for these kinds of things over the last few days.

  “Mindful-Sight is a professional, so we should be fine. Just try and relax, okay?”

  The kit nodded, letting her go so she could gently wrap herself around Ink-Talon’s unconscious body, making sure his wings couldn’t move if he became restless without restricting his breathing too much.

  As she finished, Mindful-Sight began disassembling her improvised splint design, seeming to alternate between being impressed and horrified in equal measure as it saw how the whole thing was put together. Once the wound was fully exposed, however, it stopped, turning its head and looking between the leg and the snake as it realized the source of the wound.

  “This is a bite wound. One inflicted by you, unless another snake with the exact same dentition attacked you.” The Physician pointed both eyes at the snake as its color shifted into a marbled red-and-white pattern. It had realized who, exactly, she was, and was afraid. “Are you in complete control of yourself? If not, leave. Now.”

  “Yes,” the snake answered with confidence before turning her thoughts inward. So long as you behave. The snake-half of her mind had been quiet for the last few days, only chiming in when it was time to hunt or to agree with Ink-Talon when he got particularly single-minded. But now she was dealing with strangers again, and she did not know how it would react.

  I will ‘behave’ so long as the prey does, it responded, feigning annoyance. Worry weakens us, so stop. Take action, before it assumes that you are unsure.

  “I did not bite Ink-Talon to attack him. We were caught in a storm, and he would have been swept away by the wind if I did not latch on to him and keep him anchored until the storm passed.” The snake rattled out her explanation swiftly. Her other half was right, she needed to be decisive. “I will gladly submit to an examination after we help my friend. But he comes first.”

  “Agreed.” Mindful-Sight’s colors shifted back to a more neutral blue as it set about examining the wound, gently running a foot along the leg and repeatedly repositioning itself for better angles. “I will need to excise a few scutes and some of the underlying flesh around the bite before we can consider long-term stabilization of the break. Some rather serious necrosis has set in in places.”

  “An infection? We did our best to clean the wound frequently, at least twice a day.”

  “You performed excellently in that, and if you hadn’t this would be much worse. No, the necrosis is almost certainly a result of something else.” The chameleon turned an eye towards the snake to gauge her reaction. “Prolonged exposure to your venom, most likely.”

  “But I didn’t…”

  “You did not inject venom with your fangs, but you held him in your clenched jaws for a long time. Even a minute amount of venom can cause localized damage if it is not removed immediately.” Mindful-Sight’s color brightened somewhat as its expressions softened. “You saved his life, regardless of the lesser harm done in the process. And we can treat that lesser harm.”

  The Physician extracted a pair of tools from the boiling water, holding them in the air to let them cool. One seemed to be a scalpel, but rather than a handle to grip, it was more like a short blade attached to a wooden ring, which the physician slipped a toe through to treat the blade as an extension of its own claw. The other tool was more recognizable, a set of forceps, the hinging design perfect for the odd arrangement of toes on the chameleon’s feet.

  “You do not need to watch this if you do not want to,” it said, once more stabilizing a bipedal stance with a tail grip. “Instead, I would like you to monitor Ink-Talon’s heartbeat and breathing, as your coils should make them rather easy to feel. Alert me if there are any sudden changes.”

  “Understood.” The snake nodded, turning away as the chameleon moved to make the first cut…

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